Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gregory Gunn wants to die. It’s morbid, and definitely not healthy to think like that, but yes. He wants to kill himself, and then stick around as a ghost and see if his uncle ever cared. Uncle doesn’t, Greg knows this. Looking into the mirror, struggling to keep his eyes ahead and studying the rough skin crawling up his neck and claiming his cheeks.

He’s fourteen and has the absolute worst case of lizard skin a dermatologist has never seen. The people who like, paint nails and stuff? Yeah, his nails are thick, tinged green and they want to curl in a way that even Amaya’s talons don’t want to. Connor got off lucky, in Greg’s opinion. People like cats. Cat people are a thing online, from what little access to the internet Greg could have. Granted, those cat people were… really inappropriate, and Greg would always have to turn the computer off, too guilty to even scroll past whatever he saw or read.

His uncle was watching everything, after all. And Greg loves his uncle, really, he does! But a relationship sours when your uncle buys the first kids you talk to in a public setting, and then mutates them beyond repair, locking them underground with every government file wiped from existence. His uncle didn’t even have the courtesy to give his own nephew a cute animal to be an abomination of! He gave him a freaking Monitor Croc, some gross abomination that many people claimed was evil. That’s something He and Amaya had in common, at least.

“Hey,” a girl hissed, dropping out of an air duct that’s had a broken grille for years now.

“Luna, what’s up?” Greg was used to her popping in now and then, especially after she has a frustrating day like today. But then another body followed hers, a long and lanky kid who never spoke with Greg.

“Listen, Nepo, we need you to help us out here.” Nori and Luna were a year older than Greg and his friends, and were among the first batch of mutants GUNNTech made, alongside a third kid no one ever spoke about.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” Greg sighed, ready to help Luna at a moment’s notice. “There’s wound cream in the mattress, like always.”

“What.” Nori paused, eyes wide. They whipped their head to look at Luna, who had wasted no time pulling a small medicinal tube out from a hidden slit in the stiff mattress in the corner. “What the hell Moony, you made me think we were gonna force him or something!” Luna ignored them, pulling up her shirt to spread the cream on her side, where a nasty multicolor bruise painted her ribcage. It was a safety precaution Greg got away with a few months ago after Luna popped in with an arm so purple and swollen it looked like it was about to fall off.

“I mean, you are forcing me to.” Greg shrugged. “What do you need me to do?”

“We’re leaving.” Luna snarled, shoving the tube back into its hiding place. “Your bitch-ass uncle is trying to kill me! And fuck if I’m gonna stay in this hell-hole.”

“I’m going with.” Nori interrupted, wincing at her strong language.

“Huh?” Greg looked at the both of them. “But how will you live outside? We don’t exist?”

“You don’t.” Luna smirked. “But Nori found out we still have files, and that’s what we need help with.”

“Yes, I managed to get Kid Genius to make me a program that will obliterate whatever GUNNTech has, giving us a chance to disappear after we get out.” Nori pulled out a plug-in drive. “We have our escape plan, our files, our plan for after, but what we need…” Nori held out the drive.

“Is a distraction.” Greg finished, voice soft. He shifted his gaze up and into Luna’s grey eyes. “Why me?”

Luna softens as well. “You’re my best friend, Lizard brain. Even if you… stay, I know I can trust you.”

“Wait, he’s staying? You’re staying?” Nori shakes their head. “No no no no, us making him help is bad enough, but now you’re just gonna let a loose end go?”

“I’ve been helping Luna for years.” Greg argued. “I think I’m plenty trustworthy!”

Nori’s face withered. “If that’s true, then why aren’t you coming with us? You should know better than most what a horrible place this is?”

Luna groaned, snatching the drive and shoving Nori back. “Listen, we’re running out of time! Greg and I have an understanding. Get back into the vent, or I’m leaving you behind!” She dropped the drive into Greg’s open hand. “Plug it into the server, Nori marked where, and then get the fuck out of there. It’s set up to trigger alarms all over the place and unlock everything. If you get punished for this, I’ll never forgive you.” She vowed. Her lips are chapped and her fingertips are calloused.

“When?” He asks, having already had a feeling something like this would happen. Luna wasn’t exactly subtle around him.

“ASAP.” Nori huffs, pulling themselves up into the duct, leaving Luna to elaborate. “Dinner just ended, Romeo and Connor have clearance to hang out tonight, Amaya’s scheduled night training, and there are only two hours until curfew.” Luna grins. “It’s the perfect time to start shit.”

When Gregory Gunn was five years old, his mom and dad had dropped him off to stay with his uncle. A few months later, Uncle took him to a classroom full of other kids the same age as him. There were two girls who were super nice, and they played with blocks and the superhero figurines. One girl, Amaya, loved Flossy Flash, who wasn’t Greg’s favourite, but she’s cool too! The second girl was quiet, but she helped Greg with the blocks when his stubby hands made it difficult to make delicate builds. Her favorite hero was Master Fang, and Greg had fun playing Kick Mcgee, his sidekick.

Greg didn’t know he doomed these girls just by talking to them. Uncle insisted they come home with him like a sleepover. But they didn’t go home. Instead, Greg and his new friends found themselves underground, slated to become the next batch of mutants, designed to boost the egos of doctors that Greg didn’t know. A month after they were trapped underground, the three kids woke up with metal plates on their chests, a diamond shape that was an affront to God, inserted against their wills into their small bodies.

Violated, no longer children who just stopped being toddlers, just test subjects.

Batch One of the Animal Mutants.

Chapter Text

It starts when he’s five-years-old. His mom takes him to a daycare center and sells him to Greyson Gunn, CEO of GUNNTech. Connor thought he was going to spend the night with his new friends at first. But Greg’s house was so weird! The drive was long and crowded, and they went to sleep in a basement! Connor’s house didn’t have stairs at all, so going down an elevator was so cool! Then He, Greg, and Amaya found themselves in a room with three sleeping bags and a mirror wall, and he was honestly so happy to finally have a sleepover.

Greg’s uncle and Amaya’s aunt gave their niece and nephew hugs and kisses goodbye. Connor’s mom was nowhere to be seen. 

Then life seemed to take a horrible turn. He woke up one day and his body burned, covered in fur, legs elongated and bent backwards, hearing and sight and smell twisted beyond recognition. Connor saw himself in the mirror, a young girl with spots and stripes, dark brown eyes bright with an energy he certainly didn’t feel anymore. 

Caretakers helped Connor and his friends learn how to walk, after their legs got mutated. Greg got the best end of the stick, his legs simply thicker than before. Amaya had one of her toes moved to her heel, and her legs were bent awkwardly like Connors. Digitigrade, the caretakers called them. 

Their nails were messed up, teeth and eyes, tails and small wings. The three kids were now animals, monitored through the metal plates on their chest.  

They were no longer who they used to be. 

It took a couple of months after the initial transformation for GUNN to begin testing them, beyond their life-expectancy. Speed, Durability, Brains. All of it. Connor ran the fastest, Amaya was the quietest, the quick thinker. Greg was strong, stronger than a normal six-year-old. All of them had better hearing, faster reflexes, and improved night vision. They all had downsides as well. 

Greg was always cold. He could camouflage himself, and apparently that messed with his temperature. He was half-way cold-blooded, unable to regulate his temperature, but never got cold enough to pass out or die, a reasonable 10 C°. 

Amaya became fragile. Her bones were partially hollow, and she kept needing casts and physical therapy. They covered her room in soft materials, in order to limit how much she broke. 

And Connor? He found out he had a debilitating fear of water. One so excessive he’s had multiple sobbing fits over. He couldn’t wash his hands, or brush his teeth, or shower (heaven forbid they try to give him a bath) and it was awful. The caretakers kept giving him short-term alternatives to water usage in most everything, except for bathing. That was one the caretakers were stuck on. Wipes and his random bouts of self-cleaning attempts could only go so far before they had to try something.

So they put him in a box. 

“Maria, please.” Caretaker Harley is a mean, cruel woman. She’s colored similarly to Connor’s mom, but Mama left him here, so Harvey is a bad person. 

“Just push her in.” Scientist Nika is someone Connor doesn’t know. He hates Nika too. “She isn’t going to listen.”

Harley sighs. “Maria, we need to stifle this irrational fear. Exposure therapy is good for you.” and with that, Harley tossed Connor’s small body into a clear box, with a large pipe connected from the top. Harley locks the door, stepping away. 

“The water will only go to your ankles, okay?” Nika says loudly. Connor is shaking, eyes scrunched closed and breaths uneven. The pipe above rumbles, the roar of hell followed by the sound of water, endless and horrible and—

“Shit!” Harley steps forward, examining the water. “Nika, stop it!” 

Connor doesn’t hear what Nika says, he’s whimpering, the water is pooling around her knees, climbing higher. The water falls fast, quickly reaching his belly, then past his chest plate. Harley yanks on the door, but it won’t budge. She’s swearing when the water goes above Connor’s ears. Connor tries to float, to swim towards the top of the box, but he can’t swim! He always needed floaties, the pink ones Mama got him. He doesn’t have his floaties, or his Mama. Connor’s tears mix with the tap water, metallic tang burning his ears, his throat. 

“Please!” He screams, bubbles leaving his mouth, and water rushes in, choking him and suffocating him at the same time. He needs to breathe, breathing calms him down. But every time he breathes, it hurts. It hurts! 

Something echoes, a loud thud. Connor doesn’t look, he can’t let water into his eyes. The thud repeated once, twice, and in the third repeat the pressure implodes, popping in Connor’s sensitive ears, and the water flows out of a sizable crack in the glass, too small for Connor to fit through. The water forces him against the shards, cutting into his sides, arms and face. 

Something grabs his shoulder, yanking on him, pulling him through the glass, shredding his clothes and skin. Connor screams and passes out.

When he comes to, he’s in a dimly lit infirmary room, lit only by the monitor connected to the stickers on his chest, and tape around his finger. No one is sitting with him. He’s covered in bandages. His head is fuzzy, but he doesn’t hurt, so that’s okay. The numbers on the monitor rise a little. A man walks in, clipboard in hand. 

“Ms. Martinez.” The man says, neither meanly nor nicely. “We put you under anesthesia, and pulled out all the glass in your body, and we fixed up your chest plate. You’re lucky the plate didn’t completely break.”

Connor doesn’t understand what he’s saying. The words flow over him, alongside the brain fog. 

“You’ll stay in here for a bit. The box will be rebuilt, but there will certainly be more testing before we use it again. We can’t have you die on us, Maria. You cost Greyson a pretty penny.” The man mutters to himself, leaving the room, leaving Connor alone. Connor can’t stop warm tears from leaking down his cheeks. He falls into an uncomfortable sleep, more itching brain than true rest. 

He wakes up a few hours later, the lights are on. The patches and tape on his finger were removed at some point, and the monitor was turned off. Amaya and Greg are lying with him, deep asleep. The bed is warm, blankets are pretty much useless. Greg clings tighter than Amaya.

“Oh.” Connor whispers. He can’t sleep, every scratch burns and itches. He must’ve run out of medicine. Hopefully, the man comes back; he was probably a doctor.

As if the universe was reading his mind, the door opens, but it wasn’t a man that walks through. It’s a boy, with spiky black hair and large glasses. His eyes are wide, examining the three mutant children. He doesn’t even walk all the way inside the room before he steps back and exits, closing the door behind him. Odd? Odd.

Connor lays his head back down and goes back to sleep.

Chapter Text

10 years old.

“I'm a boy.” Connor tells a caretaker during breakfast. He's eating sausage and bacon, with no seasoning or ketchup or anything. It's fine, it's near raw, it's what Connor is capable of eating now. He tried some of Greg's salad once, and it made him so sick he threw it up an hour later.

“Is that right?” The Caretaker responds, pulling out a GUNNtech work phone. She begins to type on it. “What makes you say that?”

Connor shrugs. “I hate Maria,” he simply says.

The Caretaker gives him a half-way smile and leans back in her chair. “I've called Doctor Mécano. She'll be here shortly.”

“Why?” Connor takes a bite of pink sausage.

“We need to make sure you're… sure.” The Caretaker answers, fidgeting with the end of her braid. “Being a boy means we need to change all of your files, and start looking into your hormones and how they'll affect you, and see if we can change how your body develops safely.”

Connor didn't quite get everything the Caretaker was talking about, but Doctor Mécano seemed to be a positive thing.

“Is there a name you want me to use?” The Caretaker asks.

“I don't know.” Connor frowns. Was he supposed to know what his boy name was supposed to be? He didn't name himself Maria, wouldn't someone else give him a boy name? Mama wasn't here, she couldn't do it this time. Maybe Greyson? He seemed to be the boss of everyone. Was he the boss of Connor?

He spent the time waiting for Dr. Mécano thinking of names he could go by now. Mark? No. José? Nah, that was the name of one of the cooks who gives Connor extra beef on nacho nights. Gavin? Hmm… Maybe? No, not Gavin. Connor muttered his thoughts to himself, the Caretaker ignoring him.

The door opened, and a short woman stepped inside, followed by another kid Connor didn't know. They both had long black hair, the woman's in a tight bun, the boy's spiked up. They both had blue eyes and thick glasses.

“Sorry, Romeo's Caretaker is running late, can you watch him while I talk to Maria?” Dr. Mécano has a soft French accent, having grown up there most of her life, before moving to Canada for work. That's where Connor thinks GUNNtech headquarters is; Canada.

“Sure, no problem.” The Caretaker smiles at Romeo, who scowls.

“I'm eleven, I don't need a babysitter!” His voice is nasally, with no sign of his mother's accent. He must've been born in Canada, then. “And if I'm going to be a Doctor like you, I need to shadow you!” He said this with a type of finality that made Connor think that Romeo won the argument. But the two adults just laughed, and the Caretaker led him out of Connor's room.

“Is he a mutant too?” Connor asks. It's weird that a kid Romeo's age isn't training like the other older kids, but maybe having his mom around made Greyson choose a different training regimen for Romeo? Maybe the thing he's mutated with isn't good for fighting, like Amaya's mutation.

Dr. Mécano shakes her head. “No, Romeo stays in the facility with me. Now, Ms. Clarke told me you were thinking about being a boy?”

“I am a boy.” Connor asserts. “I can't think of a name, but I want to be like Greg. I don't like being Maria.”

Dr. Mécano nods, kneeling beside Connor. “We can give you a list of names to choose from, okay? Now, let's go see your primary physician.”

11 years old.

They never stopped with the water boxes. Connor is inside the box. It hasn't broken since that first attempt when he was six. The water goes up to hips, and there is one scientist sitting in the room, purely to make sure he doesn't drown himself. It’s been four years, and he’s still paralyzed at the thought of water deeper than a centimeter.

Connor doesn't even understand why they keep at it. This fear of water is inhumane, exaggerated to an unbelievable degree. Connor desperately wished he could get over this fear, similar to his fear of enclosed places, but it was to no avail.

After three hours, the scientist drained the box, and let Connor out, refusing him a towel and guiding him towards his room. Connor hated the damp, dripping fur on his legs. It's making a mess in the halls of Headquarters. Most scientists let him dry off, but for some reason more than a few don't mind letting him trail water everywhere. Connor doesn't try to understand them anymore.

“When can I see Amaya and Greg?” Connor asks, stopping in front of the high-tech door to his room. The scientist scans their card, and the door slides open.

“I don't know. You'd have to ask Mr. Gunn.” They say, pushing Connor inside. Connor lets them, going along easily. “I'm not going to tell him you asked, again.” The scientist huffed. The door closed, and Connor's ears twitched at the sounds of the locking mechanism snapping into place.

“They're so stupid.” A new voice startles Connor. He jumps, flipping pathetically and clinging onto the soft grey walls. The invader snorts. “What, are you a scaredy cat?”

“No!” Connor retorts, claws stuck in the walls. Dang it. He turns away from the invader to look at his hands, focusing on relaxing the tense muscles. The walls are wet now, his jump splashed droplets everywhere. Connor whines.

The stranger waits patiently as Connor takes multiple deep breaths. When he finally frees his claws, a cloth gets tossed onto his head. Connor pulls it down and sees it's a thick, orange towel, much nicer than the white ones Connor is given. Connor turns to examine the invader.

It's the boy who follows the doctors around, Dr. Mécano's son. Connor can't remember his name, but he's seen the boy around the facility, one of the only kids in this place with no plates in his chest. The Mécano kid stands with his arms crossed and a cocked hip, eyebrow raised in clinical disappointment Connor was far too used to.

“For your legs.” Mécano's voice is nasally, bratty. The vibrations mess with Connor's inner ear fur in the worst way. “I'd fire whoever let you make such a mess.”
Connor bristles, but wastes no time drying off his wet fur, the towel quickly getting damp. He didn't want to make a mess! He just had no choice. Mécano wrinkles his nose.

“...You can keep the towel. I don't want wet fur smell on my stuff.”

“‘kay.” Connor put the towel in the linen bin beside the door. His fur was still itchy, and normally Connor would groom his fur until it was better, but with the Mécano kid here, Connor didn't want to do something so non-human so openly.

“You're Connor, correct?” He's wearing glasses, large round things that distract from the sharpness in his eyes. “Subject Number Three from Animal Testing Group Two. King Cheetah mutation.”

“I guess.” Connor sat on his bed. “It's freaky that you know all of that. Only the adults are supposed to read my files.”

Mécano sniffs, clearly proud. “I've managed to read all the files on every test subject. No one could stop my genius with such pathetic security and firewalls.”

“Wouldn't the government be extra careful though?” Connor scratches one of the spots on his thigh. He was still wearing the swim shorts his Caretakers put him in. He had regular shorts in his dresser… but Mécano was still here.

“Not with their paper files.” Mécano countered, blue eyes glittering. A weird effect that Connor only ever sees with Luna. Is he a mutant then?

“Are you a test subject?” Connor asks.

Mécano gasps, hand on his chest. He steps forward, away from the corner of the room and closer to Connor. “Oh Puh-lease! Like Greyson Gunn could control the great Romeo Mécano!”

Oh.

Connor remembers the first time he properly met the kid, and year ago the day he told Mr. Gunn he was Connor, a boy. Then Connor got put on lockdown while they messed with his hormones. Connor still didn't fully understand what they did to him, but he had to take lots of shots and get even more foreign objects inserted underneath his skin, in his left arm this time, and not visible like the metal plate was. Connor was put on precautions, with only the barest contact with scientists and doctors. He wasn't even allowed to talk to Amaya or Greg anymore! He saw them train together, through a glass panel in a hallway a few times.

This Romeo kid was the first person to step inside Connor's room for a year.

17 years old.

“Wildcat, do you copy?”

Wildcat crouched on a rooftop, watching civilians below. Gekko's voice came from an earpiece.

“Yeah Gekko, I copy.” Wildcat pushes himself to his feet. It's dark tonight, smog and clouds hiding the stars and moon. Downtown was the most developed part of town, with taller buildings and neon lights. It's small, too. Most of the city is suburban neighborhoods and shopping lots.

“Somethings going down at Old Bell Lake in Wilson Park.”

“Ah. On my way.” Wildcat huffs and starts his trek towards the mission. There are lots of things that could be happening in the park. None that come to mind really require the help of Wildcat or Gekko, things like drug dealings or maybe lost tourists. The Police should be able to handle all of that. “Do you know what it is?”

It takes a moment for Gekko to respond. There's a whirring noise in the background of his call, he's probably in a vehicle right now. “There's reports of unusual temperature readings, and loud noises. GUNN is thinking it might be Romeo.”

The name startles Wildcat, and he barely stops himself from careening off a roof and into a dumpster. “Where's Amaya?”

“Recital, out of town.” Gekko groans. “If you're not here with me they're gonna get mad.”

Wildcat growls in frustration, and shuts off his comm. Fine, whatever. He'll do what GUNN says.

11 years old.

Romeo keeps coming by, bringing random bits of machinery and talking about whatever he wants. He doesn't let Connor speak much outside of responding or asking clarifying questions. Whenever Connor asks questions, Romeo scoffs and complains about being smarter than Connor, so he doesn't ask questions often, and has since learned to use context clues to figure out what Romeo was saying.

Tonight Romeo comes in, and is staying by the door, stopping it from closing itself. “Let's go.” He urges.

Connor shakes his head. “I'm not allowed to leave without a scientist.” He is sat on his bed, where he's supposed to be.

Romeo scowls, unable to let the door close. If he did, then opened it again to leave, the door log would let GUNN know about the unauthorized use. “I can help you with the water box.”

“What?” Connor's tail twitches. He can't control it too well, so it keeps betraying his emotions.

“I won't explain if you don't leave with me.” Romeo threatens. He sounds disappointed, and frustrated. The tone makes Connor freeze. The scientists and caretakers talk with that tone every time Connor fails a task or test. They know he could be better, He knows he could be better. And yet he still fails. Connor doesn't want to fail. So he nods and gets to his feet, leaving his room with his friend.

“Good.” Romeo's voice is happier now. The tone shift is enough praise for Connor. He did well, this time. “I have a lab that no one uses, we need to go there first. Talking will let someone know we're out of bed, okay?”
Connor nods again. Mission clear.

17 years old.

Wildcat reaches the park before Gekko. GUNN scientists were correct, Romeo's portable lab is parked in the dirt lot next to the lake, and Romeo himself is sitting on a bench beside the lakeshore, fiddling with something in his lap. Wildcat is too far way to see what he's messing with, but with Romeo, it can't be any good.

Gekko lands at Wildcats side, hiding in a thick brush of foliage. “Report?”

“Machine in his hands, it's small enough to fit in his lap. Portable lab is near, a few meters away. Seems relaxed.” Wildcat repeats, straightening his spine. Gekko is much taller than Wildcat, towering more than twenty centimeters above Wildcats head. All muscle, instincts, and a surety of self that Wildcat hasn't had since he was five.

“Okay. Let's try a calm approach. Maybe he won't be a big issue tonight.” Gekko steps out of the bushes, letting his huge feet hit the ground just so, making enough noise to announce his arrival. Romeo doesn't turn around, but he does pause for a second. He heard them. Wildcat waits a beat before leaving the protective cover, keeping his steps quiet, making sure Gekko's large physique stays in between him and the mad scientist.

Once he's around three meters away, Gekko stops. Wildcat is a meter away from him, and refuses to get any closer.

“Romeo Mécano.” Gekko says.

“Gregory Gunn.” Romeo answers, finally turning his head. His eyes widened at the sight of Wildcat. “And you're brought your kitty!” He grins. The scars that run through his right eye and cheek are sharp, lit by whatever green glowing thing he's holding.
Wildcat doesn't say anything, letting Gekko take charge like Greyson always wanted. If they were fighting some generic criminals, or maybe even Nori or Luna, then Wildcat could take initiative no matter what Gekko said. But Romeo is right there, his one blue eye staring at him, expression twisted by his scars. Wildcat doesn't know what he's feeling.

“What are you up to?” Gekko asks, crossing his thick arms. Romeo barely spares him a glance, before going back to tinkering with his invention.

“Nothing to worry your lizard-brain over. Just a freeze ray.”

“A what—” Gekko is caught off guard by a large splash of water coming from the lab. Wildcat watches as a large round robot uses a hose to spray the Lizard Hero down.

Wildcat tenses, leaping far away from the range of the hose. In one smooth motion, Romeo rises to his feet, leaning on his cane with one hand and holding his ray gun with the other, shooting Gekko with a bright blue light. When the light died down, he was frozen solid, covered in icicles.

“You come any closer, we'll spray you too.” Romeo threatens Wildcat, shifting closer to Gekko.

Terror froze the blood in Wildcat's veins.

11 years old.

The lab is down four long stretches of dimly lit hallways, grossly white and buzzing blue fluorescent lights, no signs of life besides the two boys. Inside a card-locked door, everything was dark grey and bright orange, sparks and wires and green progress bars. Connor looked around. In the center of the room was a bed, next to a heart monitor and a movable table covered in various medical tools.

“Now I can tell you.” Romeo shut the door behind him. The lab is still dark, but the warm lights let Connor relax a bit. “Sit on the red chair, please.”

A plush red chair (more like an entire loveseat) was shoved towards the right side of the room. Connor sat down, shivering at the feeling of cold leather. Romeo grabbed a swivel chair and a clipboard, rolling to be next to Connor.

“Did you know you're supposed to shift?” He begins. Connor doesn't understand what Romeo is talking about, but if he answered right now, Romeo would only scoff, and might get frustrated enough to not tell Connor anyways. “The mutation they gave you is a permanent change to your body, and the metal plate under your skin is a blocker that can temporarily hide your animal traits.” Romeo looks up from his clipboard. “They don't know how to force you to shift.”

“I'm not the first mutant though.” Connor spoke up. “What about Sky Team?”

Romeo sneered, looking far too full of himself. “They're not animals like you. And only one of that batch has a metal plate like yours.” His voice is haughty and grating, but Connor hasn't seen anyone in a few days, and the fact that he's having a conversation makes his stomach squirm.

Connor wants to ask who, but he figures he's interrupted Romeo enough.

“The water box is them trying to distress you into becoming human. They hypothesize that if your animal instincts overwhelm your mind, the block will activate, turn you human, and then your regular human instincts will take over, and you won't be afraid of water.” Romeo made a wry face. “They've been at it for so long in case your puberty affected anything.”

“I'm ten?” Connor spoke before thinking. Romeo narrowed his eyes, making Connor cower into the plush chair.

“As I was saying, You had a chance of starting puberty as early as seven years old, then you started transitioning, which threw another wrench into their plans.” Romeo sniffed. “I think their hypothesis is nonsense. I want to try to manually turn on your block, and see if I can make you shift. Then you won't have to go into the box again. Deal?” He holds out a hand. He's wearing black gloves, Connor notices. Already prepared to do science tonight. Connor accepted the hand wordlessly, letting himself be guided to the medical bed.

“Off.” Romeo gestures to Connor's shirt, turning around to grab a laptop, a cord, and his swivel chair. He comes back around, and pauses. “Didn't you hear me?” He frowns.

Connor shuffled in his new seat. “Uh… my chest?” He mumbles, face burning.

Romeo looks absolutely confused. “Yeah? That's where your implant is? I need the shirt off so I can put on the EKG and connect to your plate.”

“Um… but…” Connor shivers. Realization dawned on Romeo's face. His eyes are comically wide.

“You know boys can take their shirts off, right?” Romeo asks. “And even if you weren't a boy, I'm not being inappropriate. I'm doing a medical procedure. I'd be a bad doctor otherwise, and Romeo Mécano isn't a bad doctor.” Romeo's face is grim. But the reassurance helps Connor, he thinks. His shirt goes off, and the air is cold, prickling the fur on his arms and legs. His pectorals are a little bigger than they should be, the Doctors said it would be another month before they were flat like they're supposed to be.

Like he promised, Romeo didn't bat an eye, merely searching for the port on the right of Connor's torso, near the sternum. Once he locates it, he puts on the EKG and boots up the monitor. Romeo plugs his laptop into the port, and begins to search. The monitor in here beeps quietly, and Connor's sure that he only heard it because of his sensitive ears.

17 years old.

Wildcat has to fight. Romeo is going after Gekko. But what to do? Wildcat analyzes the situation in front of him, but he wasn't the smart one. Amaya was smart, Greg was strong, and Connor was presentable, malleable.

“What is it you want?” Wildcat speaks up. Romeo stops his movement, tuning his head towards the cat.

“Please, even I didn't think you were this stupid.” Romeo scoffs, freeze ray at his side. The robot doesn't move, hose at the ready. “What makes you think I'm going to tell you?”

Wildcat doesn't think. He isn't the thinker, that's Greg and Amaya. Gekko and Owlette. He dashes forward, at a speed even faster than a cheetah, swiping his claws towards Romeo. Romeo only has time to flinch, and Wildcat wrenches the ray out of his hands, moving away in a serpentine fashion, hoping to dodge the hose. But the Robot still doesn't move. Wildcat is back where he started, ready to bolt at the first sign of a fight.

Romeo stares at him, eyes alight. He laughs, his whole body bending over his cane, shaking in mirth. “Oh, kitty. You are a riot!” He stands up, hand in his pocket, pulling out an empty syringe, needle long and sharp. With no fanfare, Romeo turns towards Gekko and jabs it into his neck, where his GUNNtech supersuit doesn't cover his skin. Romeo draws some blood, and steps away.

“He'll thaw in a few hours, and recover from brumation a little after that.” Romeo heads towards his lab. “You can keep the gun. Consider it a gift.”

Wildcat looks down at the object in his hands. it's simple and grey, looking just like a regular gun with a slightly rounded barrel. The lab engine starts up, and drives away. Now it's just the two heros in the park by the lake.

“We lost, right?” Wildcat asks Gekko. Gekko can't respond.

12 years old.

Romeo was able to make Connor shift. A program he'd built activated the metal plate, and after a painful first transformation, Connor as a pure, real human replaced the mutant on the medical bed. The program couldn't be turned on for too long, after a while his plate would heat up and would force a shutdown, reverting Connor back. Connor was trying to shift by himself, without the use of a laptop program. Apparently, being able to do it naturally helped the plate not heat up as fast, letting the transformation last longer. But after months of trying and testing and unwanted hours in the box, Connor was no closer to being human by himself.

He was shoved into his room, shivering. The water today went up to his shoulders, and was cold. Normally, it was at least lukewarm. Romeo lounged on Connor's bed, a game device in his hands. A towel and a change of clothes were put on the floor near the door.

“Th-Th'ks”.” Connor's teeth clicked together, shivering and chattering. His voice is hoarse.

Romeo darted his gaze to Connor, already frowning. “What's wrong with you?” He queries.

Connor shrugs, peeling off his plain shirt and shorts, wrapping the towel around himself and rubbing his limbs vigorously, ignoring the painful tug on his fur.

“No, you need to tell me.” Romeo orders. He sits up, game forgotten. “What's wrong?”

“C-cold.” Connor grimaces, removing the towel and bending down to grab the clean, dry clothes.

A hand stops him, warm on his shoulder. Connor looks up to see Romeo, eyebrows furrowed, and something… different in his eyes. He grabs Connor's wrist, feeling his fingers for a moment, then moves to touch Connor's ears. Connor doesn't move, too confused and afraid to make Romeo mad. He squeaks when Romeo takes the end of his tail, frowning even more.

“Why are you so cold?” Romeo asks. Connor only shrugs again, unable to force himself to speak any more. Romeo huffs and messes with the dry clothes, pulling out the boxers.

“Put these on, then go to your bed and stay under your blankets. I'm going to yell at someone.” And with that he leaves.

Connor obeys, curled up underneath his blanket, a flat sheet, and a random white jacket he doesn't remember ever owning. Granted, he doesn't own anything, but it doesn't match any of the clothes GUNNtech let him use. And it was just left on his bed! Connor wouldn't be that messy. Oh well. His eyelids are getting heavy.

...

“Wake up!” Romeo shakes him awake, getting rid of the blankets, scowling. “You can't sleep when you're cold like this!” He explains as if Connor is supposed to know. Connor doesn't know anything, all he knows is that he wants his blankets back!
Romeo pauses, eyes wide. He's staring at the jacket Connor put on. “Where did you get that?” He asks, clearly confused. Connor pouts, grabbing towards the blankets. Even the thin sheet would be warmer! Romeo stepped away, and with him went the blankets. The confusion was replaced with a stern expression. “No! I was gone for a few minutes, and you fell asleep! That can kill you if you're too cold.” He scolds.

Connor growls and lunges, toppling Romeo over and wrenching the blankets from his grasp, wrapping it around his shoulders and curling up immediately. He's still on Romeo, but Connor couldn't care less, he was warm now.

“Hey! Get off me!” Romeo shoved him, but Connor clung on. His throat made a rumbling noise, and Romeo stopped moving again. After a moment of hesitation, Romeo groaned. “Fine, whatever, but not on the floor! It's disgusting!”

The two returned to the bed, Connor burrowed into Romeo's side. Romeo started up his game again, ignoring the clingy cat.

17 years old.

“You failed.” He's been trapped in an interrogation room for an unknown amount of time. There's a single bulb hanging above the strong metal table, his chair cold and the room silent. The voice buzzed from an intercom tucked into the corner between the ceiling and the wall. It was Greyson Gunn, voice gruff and posh and it made Connor's tail bristle, but he didn't say anything. Talking back only made things worse.

Greyson continued. “You let my nephew get hurt. You let Romeo get away, with Gekko's blood, no less. You were a mistake, a waste of valuable GUNNtech resources. You're replaceable, Connor. Don't you forget it.

“Take him to the box, highest settings.”

Tears trailed down the black marks underneath Connor's eyes, sticking in his fur. Scientists and Caretakers in padded protective gear entered the room, ready to escort him to his doom. Connor went quietly, surrounded on all sides by impersonal shadows, faceless tormentors.

Romeo was almost better than this.

The room with the box is dark, lit only by the console that controlled it. It's blue, sickeningly enough. Connor can't breathe enough air into his lungs, the mere sight of the box suffocating him. He can't step closer, and the shadows clamor around him, shoving and dragging him closer, fighting his thrashing and dangerous claws, which are snagging on thick quilted fabric and ripping someone's seam. No one screams in pain, but Connor needs to be free. He needs to get out.

He's shoved into the box with no care to his body, gaining quite a few bruises and scrapes that his fur will hide. The walls are closer than ever, did they make the box thinner? The air is thinner, Connor can't get enough oxygen to his brain. The faucet above roars to life, and Connor is cold, so cold, his heart stops for a second then resumes in double time. He cries, screams, but the shadows stand there, watching him. The frigid burn travels up his legs, past his hips and continues on to his shoulders. Then the water keeps rising, above his shoulders, his neck and jaw. Connor stretched, standing on his toes and looking up. The water stopped falling into his eyes, his nose, and rested at his lips.

His mouth treaded icy water, stabilized by outstretched arms, legs burning in every which way. It was hell, it was hell and Connor wanted to leave. He wants to hide out in his bed, the lab that hasn't been used in years yet no one has repurposed. He remembers a warm room he once had, when he was young and still believed his mother loved him. Connor used to share a room with his friends, except his friends aren't here; he's surrounded by shadows.

12 years old.

“And… Now!”

Connor screwed up his face in concentration, imagining the encasing feeling of skin, smothering his fur, bending his legs back into shape. His ears move down and his nose grows out, and Connor can feel his tail shift into his spine.

“Yes! Yes Yes Yes!” Romeo cheers, and Connor opens his eyes and stares at himself in the mirror. He's human, and there's no cords plugged into his plate.

“I did it.” Connor gasps, turning to see Romeo grinning ear to ear, rather uncharacteristically. “I did it!” He joins in Romeo's cheering, the two shaking with excitement.

Romeo calms down first, eyes still bright and cheeks flushed. He looks thirteen, for the first time in a while. Connor always forgets they're only a couple of months away in age.

“Okay okay, now shift back.” Romeo prompts, excited, so excited. Connor lets the shell pop open, and his fur and tail are back, his face now cheetah-like and his legs are digitigrade again.

Romeo nods, letting a quick grin slip through his stoic science-y face he keeps trying to wear. “Okay, that's good. You've been able to shift back and forth multiple times already, meaning now our goal is to get you to stay human for a longer period of time.” Romeo turns around and steps away for a moment, typing something down in his laptop on the desk near the wall. Connor looks back at the mirror, shifting back and forth at will. Human Connor is strange to see. The last time Connor looked human, he was a little girl scared to start kindergarten. Now he was a boy, taller and about turn thirteen. There's. nothing in his face or body that reads as a girl, which was something Connor had always been silently afraid of.

“I have a hypothesis.” Romeo shuts his laptop, but doesn't turn to face Connor. “I've made an observation that warrants questioning, and I've decided a test is in order. It has nothing to do with your plate.” Connor relaxes, a cheetah once more.

Romeo slowly turns, eyes staring into Connor’s, face expression stoic and flat. He steps closer, still not looking away. Connor doesn't understand if he's supposed to be doing something, but Romeo isn't saying anything, and he doesn't look angry or disappointed. Romeo stands in front of Connor, and places his hands on Connor's shoulders. He leans closer, and presses his lips against Connors.

It's… strange. Connor doesn't fully understand why Romeo would do this, but he wasn't going to ask, wasn't going to risk Romeo's ire. The boy leans back, clearly thinking hard about whatever he just did. His hands are still holding onto Connor. Romeo isn't saying anything, isn't moving away, or closer, or anything. Connor wants to ask, so desperately, but Romeo was so happy, so excited. He simply swallows down his words.

“Results: Inconclusive.” Romeo mumbles to himself. “Maybe I need to test more?” He finally steps away, removes his hands from Connor, not paying him any attention. Connor takes a deep breath. Romeo isn't right in front of him, maybe he can ask now?

“What…” Connor hesitates at the sharp gaze of his friend. “What was that?”

Romeo freezes, tense. “Explain.”

“I don't…” Connor struggles to grasp at words. “Some scientists do that to each other, I think. Why would you… do that, to me?” Romeo's expression is horrified, stricken, eyes wide in an odd expression that doesn't fit his face at all.

“You don't know what a kiss is?” Romeo looks sick now.

“Do you need some water?” Connor offers, afraid. “You don't look well.”

“Of course I'm not well!” Romeo bursts out. Connor cowers, pressed against the mirror. “I just kissed someone who doesn't know what a kiss is! There's ethical rules to these things, Connor, and kissing someone who doesn't know what's happening to them goes against those rules!”

Oh, that makes sense, Connor thinks he understands. Romeo prides himself on being a good doctor, a good scientist. Ethics were supposed to be followed in order to be good. Luckily, the way to fix this issue seems to be an easy solution, from Connor's point of view, at least.

“Why don't you teach me, then?” Connor offers. “And then next time you… kiss me, I'll know what you're doing, and it won't go against ethics.”

Romeo shakes his head. “Go to your room. I need to think.”

Connor frowns, but Romeo already yelled earlier. So despite him wanting to stay, Connor followed the order, leaving the lab and heading out into the dark hallways.

Chapter Text

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

One. Two. Three. Four—

A car. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

Back to Trees. One. Two. Three.

“Are you sure you're practicing?” A woman's voice snipes.

Four. Five. Six.

Amaya turns away from the car window, turning to look at her Aunt. She's an older woman, disapproving lines mark her face, which is swollen in some places, unnaturally so. Amaya isn't sure what makes her aunt look the way she does, blonde hair with greying roots and nasty brown eyes.

“I am practicing. We got gold.” Amaya mumbles.

Auntie scoffs. “That Clara girl did better than you. I would've given her the medal. This is unacceptable, Amaya. You are better than this.”

She can only nod. Once, Thrice, Six times. Her head hurts. The metal in her ribcage hurts. It's burning, but Auntie hates how Amaya looks, so she can only relax when she's alone in her room. There's still forty-five minutes until the two drive to Auntie's farmhouse-with-no-farm.

One Tree. Two Trees. Three Trees. Four Trees. Five Trees. Six Trees.

Luna Rossi hates her shitty childhood. But she's eighteen now, in college, and she's honestly thriving now. Her roommates are cool, super chill, she's got a group of friends who love her, and she even has a therapist who understands the bullshit she's gone through.

“I am not your therapist.” Nori sighs, crouched on top of a building in their DIY Ninja costume. Luna doesn't know what they plan on doing, but she's along for the ride, a bag of pretzels in hand.

“Yes you are. I complain about my feelings, and you give me advice sometimes. And if you do a good job, I let you crash on my couch.” Luna shoved more pretzels into her mouth. The moon rise made her so hungry.

Nori's mask covers up the lower half of their face, but Luna knows they're giving her a disapproving frown. “Why are you here, Moony? You don't do the Nighttime stuff.”

“The newest Flossy Flash shipped earlier today.” Luna points at the comic book store nearby. “I'm getting one.”

“And… what does that have to do with me?” Nori asks. “You can get your comic now. The more you stay here, the higher the chance you run into GUNNtech.”

Luna shrugs. It's an off day for her, fuck off. The moon is full, and that always messes with her moods and energy levels. “Could go for a fight, I guess.”

Nori doesn't respond, instead looking at their high-tech watch. It's that classic grey-green-orange that tells Luna they got it from Romeo. Nori doesn't wear it that often, only when…

“What is she doing here?” Romeo steps out from behind an AC unit.

“Doesn't matter.” Nori commands Romeo's attention. Luna crunches on more pretzels. “What I'm after is information.”

Romeo scoffs. “And what information is that?”

“The blood.” Nori snaps. Luna pauses her eating. Blood? Isn't Romeo… a tech dude? Makes robots and gadgets? What did he do with blood? “What do you need that for?”

“Why would I tell you?” Romeo leans against his cane. Luna always meant to ask him why he had that. And the scar. That only popped up within the last three years or so.

“I know where they keep your mother's ashes.” Luna's eyes widened. The fuck? Mom-ashes shouldn't be a bargaining chip, right? Nori continues. “I'll bring them to you. What do you need the blood for?”

Romeo squints, disturbed and intrigued.

Forty-five minutes later, the Scientist and the Ninja went off to steal shit from GUNN headquarters. Luna declined the offer to go with them, not willing to risk that much. She wasn't lying about the comics, after all.

Luna picked the lock on the back door, a trick she learned when she was eight. Ms. Mécano was nice to her and Nori, especially after Subject One vanished. How such a kind lady raised a brat like Romeo, Luna will never understand.

Once inside, Luna made her way through the stockroom, looking for unopened boxes. Most everything was open, dusty, unorganized. Gross.

She risked sticking her head out into the main store, and while there did seem to be a shelf set aside for new arrivals, none of them had the cover Luna was searching for.

“Shit.” Luna whispered, turning around. The boxes are here somewhere. Maybe near the large garage door?

“You shouldn't be here.” Large eyes glimmered in the faint moonlight, blocking the lockpicked backdoor.

Luna winced, twisting to look at her friend. “It's Flossy Flash.” Amaya stepped closer, dressed in her Owlette suit, sans wings.

“Why can't you just buy it tomorrow?” Amaya sighed, blinking far too many times. Luna looks her over. Has she always been that skinny?

“I'm poor?” If this were anyone else, Luna would make some sort of snide remark about money or whatever. Especially if she was talking to Greg, the Fucking Nepo Baby. Kind, and a true friend, but still stupid rich. “And I don't want to be spoiled, so I need to read it now before everyone blabs about it.”

Amaya shakes her head. The gentle shake quickly turns into six harsh twitches. Ah… Luna almost forgot.

“I can't let you steal, Luna.” Amaya frowns.

“What if I read it right now, then I won't need to take it.” Luna offered. It was a shitty deal, the store was dark and Luna wouldn't be able to absorb every detail like she wanted, make huge deep dives that got her semi-famous on some Flossy Flash forums.

Amaya opened her mouth to respond, only to be cut off by a buzzing coming from the communicator on her wrist.

“Owlette, We need you!” Greg's voice comes out. “Romeo and Nori are trying to steal something from GUNN.”

“Where's Wildcat?” Owlette asks, looking between the comm and Luna.

“Uncl–Greyson says he's out of commission for tonight.”

“Okay. On my way.” And with that, Owlette's shoulders slumped. She stares at Luna. “Are you still in the basement?”

Luna nods. Amaya cracks a grin, walking backwards out the door.

“I'll come by in a few days. I wanna read it too.” She leaps away, silent and deadly. Luna smiles, and returns to her Hunt.

The next evening, Amaya was shocked to see Connor in the cafeteria kitchen, sipping a drink. Greg ran into her back, not paying attention to his surroundings. Connor stared at the two, tense and unsure.

GUNNtech had started isolating Connor from The two merely a year after they were mutated, having been absent from a lot of training that Greg and Amaya were forced to do together. Heck, they trained with Nori and Luna more than Connor! It got really bad after he came out as a boy, moving rooms and not even being allowed to eat in the cafeteria or walk around the halls or anything. The distance between him and Amaya was cavernous, deep, and it hurt so much, she couldn't breathe sometimes.

After Luna and Nori ran away, Connor was allowed to hang out with them again. He still slept far away, and trained at a different time in a different gym, but during down time, He was allowed to roam. Amaya still never saw him often. She supposed he was used to the isolation.

“Hello.” She nodded to the boy, heading to her stash of dry carrots.

“Hi.” Connor responded, gripping his cup tightly. He looks at Greg. “Sorry, about the other day.”

Greg simply smiled, sunshine incarnate as always. “You’re good, dude. The workouts afterwards was almost worse than whatever Romeo could've done.”

“Work outs?” Connor questioned. Amaya spun around to analyze her teammate. He was difficult to read, his face stoic like Romeo's.

“Yeah, the punishment workouts. They suck, right?” Greg grinned. Amaya nodded in agreement, squinting her eyes. Connor twitches, his ear moves a little. What does that mean?

Connor looks back at Amaya. “Are you able to eat twelve of those? Or only six at a time?” He gestures to the carrot sticks.

“Six at a time.” Amaya allows the deflection. “I can’t digest carrots, so twelve would make me sick.” She crunches on her snack, daring the boys to argue with her. Greg was used to Amaya's strange diet, but Connor wasn't there when it developed. He seemed to take the information well, only nodding slowly in response. His face is still flat.

“Where were you tonight?” Greg questions Connor. “We had to fight off Nori and Romeo, they kept trying to break into headquarters.”

Now Connor made an expression, eyes wide and mouth curved into a smile. “They teamed up?” He chuckled. “After what happened last time, Greyson would kill me before he'd let me near Romeo again. And the less said about Nori, the better.” He's still smile-y.

“I understand Romeo.” Greg responds. Amaya doesn't understand Romeo, or what Connor's deal with Romeo is. She'll get one of them to spill later. Greg continued, “But what about Nori? You guys weren't that close before they left?”

“After they left. Nori said, and I quote ‘Sometimes you gotta take life by the balls, and do whatever you want.’” Connor snorted.

“What did they want?” Amaya crunched on her fifth stick.

Connor grinned. “There's cameras everywhere.”

Greg and Amaya paused, glancing at each other, then looking around the room. There weren't any obvious cameras in the corners of the room, and Amaya couldn't think of a place to put a secret camera.

“I'm heading to bed.” Connor sat up. “Have fun.” He throws his cup away as he leaves the room, lazily waving with his other hand. Amaya waited until the door closed behind him, then a few seconds more.

“I think he's taken acting lessons.” Greg mumbles. “Poker face until Romeo is brought up.”

“What's up with that, anyhow?” Amaya finishes her last carrot. Her stomach is full in a way that hurts, familiar and comforting.

Greg grimaces. “All I know is they hung out when we were fourteen, probably earlier. Uncle gave Romeo permission to mess with his plate, but I think that was just an excuse for them to mess around. After Luna and Nori left, Romeo and his mom left too. Then Romeo became a villain, and he's not Connor's friend anymore."

The story is bare bones, but Amaya guesses it suffices. Connor was isolated, and was forced to hang out with Romeo. Even if they messed around like kids, Amaya could not imagine a world where Romeo didn't go all evil scientist on Connor. No wonder the cat doesn't emote properly.

Luna ‘borrowed’ two copies of Flossy Flash: The Revenge of Zoé Zapp. She didn't even take the fancy covers, just the cheap ones featuring a silhouette of Zoé Zapp. She was an alternate universe version of Flossy, who was sometimes sort of evil. Luna loved her, and always bemoaned that the spin-off comics featuring Zoé's origin were shitty and bastardized her very complex character. Zoé Zapp wasn't some edge lord who hated people, she was just passionate, and held people at arm's length in order to protect herself from heartache. She was willing to do anything in order for Good to win.

“I think you're projecting a bit.” Amaya smiled, gnawing on her god-awful beef bars that smelled like ass. Luna only made them for her because it was loads better than fucking carrots. Owls don't eat carrots, bird-brain!

“I am not projecting!” Luna denies. They're both sitting on the brown plaid couch in the basement of a small two-bedroom home. Luna shared it with three other guys who also go to the nearby community college. They're super chill and don't bother Luna at all (And she's pretty sure they're all fucking, but that's none of her business).

The basement didn't have any light fixtures, but Luna covered the walls with fairy lights and nonsensical neon signs she found at various discount stores. Her favourite one died a long time ago, just a picture of a cheese wheel with a slice missing from it. It has a place of honor above her bed. She covered the cement floor in rugs, and managed to get a pretty decent laptop that doubled as her television. The basement was small, smaller than her room in GUNNtech headquarters, but she'd rather die than go back.

Amaya was flipping through the comic, reading faster than the average person. Luna could read fast too, once a week during the full moon at night. Another reason she liked the basement; it was harder for the Sun to reach her, and make her sick.

“What?” Amaya gasps. “Zoé has a brother?”

“Guess who it is.” Luna smirks. It's not hard, Flossy Flash didn't have tons of male characters. But that means the options are pretty… bad. Amaya is pale, obviously going through the four major male characters. Flossy's High School English teacher, her childhood best friend, one of the weekly villains, or the child version of Master Fang that the comics shoehorned in after the crossover movie was released a few years ago.

“It's her best friend, isn't it? Zachary?” Amaya groans, shoving her face into her comic out of embarrassment. “Why the heck would they write that? I know it's hard to write over two hundred of these, but really? This doesn't make sense!”

“Read it, jesus.” Luna sighs. “It makes tons more sense in context.”

A knock sounded from the stairs. “Yo, Pretty Boy is here to see you, Rossi!” Chris said loudly from the top of the stairs. He closed the door behind Nori, who was too busy taking off their mask and Ninja outfit to notice Amaya. But she definitely noticed them, eyes wide and so unsure.

“Hello.” Luna breaks the silence before it could fully settle. Nori looked up at her, and immediately saw Amaya. The two stared at each other, confused.

“Moony, she fought me last week. Absolutely wrecked my shit. My knee still hurts.” Nori was supposed to be so smart and cunning, yet here Luna is, throwing them loop for fucking loop.

She holds up her comic. “Flossy Flash.” Luna smiles. Amaya bites her lip, but also raises her copy.

Nori hums. “Zach is Zoé's brother.”

“What the fuck man, spoilers!”

“I know that!” Amaya groaned. “It's a stupid plot twist that I hate.”

“I think it finally gives the writers something to build up to.” Nori pulls off layers of clothing until they're in sweatpants, taking a seat on Luna's bed only a few feet away.

“How? The last time the writers added a random kid, it was Baby Master Fang, and he sucks!” Amaya complained.

Nori grinned, teeth sharp and slightly fucked up. “Well, Now it means there's a chance that Flossy has a brother, somewhere. She's been without a family this whole time. Zach had adoptive parents, and now a sister. Labrat has his Octo-sis. Even Baby Fang has a village. But Flossy? She's on her own, and it's something that's been slowly building the last few issues. Now there's a chance she might not be as alone as she thought.”

Amaya didn't say anything. Luna scoffed. Nori doesn't even read Flossy Flash! God, he's just quoting the analysis she posted yesterday. Five thousand hits, and one of them is fucking Nori!

“Maybe.” Amaya mumbles. She takes a bite out of her beef bar thoughtfully. Nori gags.

“What the hell is that?”

Chapter Text

Victoria Mécano was a smart woman, once. She stopped calling herself a smart woman after she accepted a job offer from her old College professor. She moved across the pond, barely two weeks pregnant and isolated from her family back in France. She had hopped on a plane, and twenty-four hours later she became the Lead Researcher of GUNNtech, Greyson Gunn's start-up business that focused on the genetic testing of animals. They studied various animals, their DNA and chromosomes, their neurons and hormones. Victoria was never explicitly told why she was doing this, but she presumed they were either reproducing endangered or extinct animals, or attempting to use their building blocks in the Healthcare world. 

Four years later, Victoria was introduced to two twin brothers; Prakai and Seksan, who had been born with a rare blood condition, supposedly. They were the first of three children who were bought and mutated underneath GUNNtech's care. And Victoria didn't know about them until it was too late. 

Prakai, Seksan, and Nori were the same age as her son, her little boy. The similarities they had to her child led to Victoria resigning and becoming their pediatrician. Being in charge of their health and well-being gave Victoria access to their mutation history, and what the hell was Greyson thinking?

“How am I supposed to care for Star Children?” Victoria was ten minutes into her rant about Stars and Moons, and whatever else Greyson decided to mutate children with. “What do you mean, Seksan gets sick during the lunar eclipse? Prakai doesn't need oxygen to breathe? Nori can hang upside-down for hours at a time? What in the world could have possessed you to do this?” 

Greyson, the smarmy bastard, sits at his opulent desk holding a fancy glass of bourbon that had been poured out of an unlabelled bottle that looked like it cost a fortune. He had yet to sip out of it. Maybe it tastes like horseshit. “Through science, all things are possible.” 

Victoria can feel her eyelids twitching. She is actively losing years of her life in this dimly lit office that is furnished with artificially aged bronze and dark leather yet still smells antiseptic. 

She is going to kill this man who thinks himself God.

Nori finds him curled in a ball on a rooftop. His shoulders are shaking and the cement beneath him is soaked with tears. Nori lands on the roof, louder than normal, not wanting to startle him.

“Connor?” Nori's voice is soft and careful. Between the PJM program and the absence of his friends, Nori wasn't sure how… grounded Connor was.

“They replaced me.” Connor growls, whipping his head around to stare at Nori. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet. “I did everything they asked. I passed every test, every trial. I went through training, punishments, hell. And they throw me away!”

Nori moved closer. Connor's voice is harsh and angry, but his eyes are distraught, his body language fragile. Slowly, they wrap their arms around his shoulders, pulling his head into their neck. Nori shushes in comfort, barely rocking back and forth.

“They cloned me.” Connor's broken voice is muffled. “He's so small. A little boy. Was I that small? Was Greg? Amaya? Were we just babies?”

This sucks. Nori worries their bottom lip between their teeth. “Please, please leave.” They beg, leaning back to look into Connor's eyes. His eyes are avoiding theirs, and his ears are pressed into his head. “Connor, what are they going to do with you?”

Connor shifts his weight, looking… guilty? “They want me to train David. I can't leave a baby in danger, Nori.”

“But—” Something plucks at their senses. Nori turns towards the AC unit, eyes narrowed. A split second later, Connor hears the intruder and glares at the unit. For a second, nothing happens.

Then Romeo walks out, limping with his cane, pale eyes glowing in the moonlight. His face is the same stupid Romeo-brand neutral expression, the one that makes it look very punchable. Connor moves, quick as lightning, standing between Nori and the Scientist, growling and tail lashing. Romeo pauses, unscarred eyebrow raised.

“Congratulations, Nori,” Romeo smirks. “It seems you've tamed him.”

He didn't hear what they were talking about before, it seems. Then his words registered. “What?” They scowled in disgust.

Romeo rolls his eyes, shambling forward. “The cat, Nori.” He drawls. Connor steps back, pressing himself against Nori, shaking. With fear?

Nori pulls Connor closer, twisting him away from Romeo. “Go away, Romeo. You can talk to me later.” They offer the meeting as a placation, nothing more. If Romeo keeps pissing them off, then all future transactions are gonna end.

“No, I think you should know this now,” Romeo says lazily, head tilted. “For your safety.”

Nori spares a glance to Connor, whose eyes are wide and full of fresh tears. His expression is scared, so scared. A deep fear and hopelessness Nori last saw on Luna's face, back when she was underneath GUNN's thumb. “What did you do?” Nori bites out, they don't give a shit about whatever Romeo's wants. Love and horror and fear well up inside them, leaving their suppression plate warm in warning.

The scientist scoffs. “What did I do? Try ‘what did he do?’” Romeo gestures to Connor. Nori opens their mouth, but Romeo cuts them off. “Who do you think scarred my face? Ruined my leg? It was him!” Romeo snarls, and Connor winces.

Nori's mouth twists in a grimace. “I'm sure you deserve it.” Connor manages to step away, cowering, eyes not leaving Romeo.

“Deserve it?” Romeo's eyes burn with fury, discolored and disproportionate. Any control Romeo might have had was lost in the chilling temperature, his face stony and cracking. Romeo leans closer, teeth bared and shoulders tense. “I loved him.” His voice is low, dangerous, and hurt.

“I stayed with him after every training session, every punishment, all the hell he had to face, I was by his side. I helped him shift, I taught him to lie, I showed him the safety you don't get in GUNNtech.” Romeo stepped closer with every point, a predator advancing, sending Nori's senses ablaze in panic and petrification. “I showed him love. I was twelve, and out of my depth, beyond my understanding of emotion. My mother tried to warn me. ‘He belongs to Greyson' she said. I didn't listen to her. And what does this rat do to me?”

Connor sucks in the air, stepping away, voice weak. “R-Romeo, please—”

“WHEN HE TOLD YOU TO ATTACK YOU DIDN'T EVEN HESITATE!” Romeo roars.

Nori turns to face Connor, confused. He seems so small, so weak. So scared. But then Nori gapes as the weakness melts away. Connor stands up, back straight. Eyes cold and flinty, a mirror of Romeo on any other day. Nori's stomach sinks as they realize Connor must have spent a lot more time with Romeo than they thought, more than the few meetings Greyson approved in the weeks leading up to Nori's escape with Luna.

"You never shut up, do you?” Connor's voice is as flat and smug as Romeo's, and Nori again has to realize, stomach sinking deeper. Connor doesn't just mask his feelings, he mirrors those around him. He must have been reflecting whatever Nori has shown him the past year, all the love and care they gave him…

Like all the love Romeo gave him.

Connor leaps forward, claws bared, aiming for Romeo's face and throat. Romeo pulls a metal device out of his coat pocket and jabs it into Connor's chest, and Connor falls to the ground, convulsing. Romeo stands above his body, breathing heavily.

“I…” Nori can't figure out what words to say. For someone who secured their safety by being a source of information, Nori is figuring out they didn't know anything.

“I don't blame you.” Romeo's voice is ragged. “Connor belongs to Greyson. Always has, always will.”

“Was everything fake?” Nori throws the question into the air. “Nepo and Ballerina aren't his, why is Connor?”

Romeo sighs. He's schooled his expression into something closer to his usual cold and smug routine. “I don't know.” His voice is still shaky though. He pockets the device, trading it for a flip phone, already open. Nori moves to stand next to him, away from Connor. They can hear the call.

"Dr. Mécano, my boy! To what do I owe the pleasure of speaking to you?” Greyson Gunn's slimy voice comes out, tinny with the help of the old device.

“Come get your pest,” Romeo responds, closing the phone and dropping it on the roof. He turns to Nori. “Come on, I really did have something to talk to you about.

”How would one learn about kissing?”

The question comes out of nowhere, first thing in the morning. Victoria is drinking coffee out of her cthulhu-themed mug that she bought on a whim a few years ago. Romeo is bright-eyed bushy-tailed like always, but there is a serious edge to his curiosity.

“What.” Victoria sighs in response. She's not sure if she's simply misheard the thirteen-year-old, or if he's finally discovering the concept of romance and whatnot today.

“Someone I have a crush on doesn't know what kissing is, and I need him to know so I can kiss him.” Her child is way too blunt.

“Kid it's…” She glances at her phone. “Eleven am. Aren't kids supposed to be, I dunno, secretive about that?”

Romeo rolls his eyes. So he can be a regular child when he wants to be. “I was going to be secretive, originally. But I kissed him last night, and he had no idea what a kiss was! I don't know how I'm supposed to explain it to him.”

Victoria takes a sip of her coffee. She should've made it stronger today. “Well, how did you learn about kissing? I didn't teach you about…” Even as she speaks, she finally registers the situation her son found himself in. Someone who didn't know what kissing was? Romeo is a child, so presumably (hopefully) the guy he has a crush on is a kid too, and besides Romeo, there aren't any other kids in headquarters. Besides the mutated kids.

“Romeo Nikolas Rémi Mécano.” Victoria puts her cup down and turns to fully face her son. “Please, for the love of God and Science, tell me the boy you kissed wasn't Gregory fucking Gunn.”

“Huh? Gross, no!” Romeo shivers in disgust – which is incredibly rude and Victoria will talk to him about that – and groans. “It's Connor!”

And isn't that icing on the cake. “Connor?” Victoria echoes, thinking it over. Two sides are warring in her mind. One side, her maternal, pediatric side, wants nothing more than to help her son teach Connor some love, socialization, friendship, anything.

The other side is the young woman who was betrayed by a trusted academic authority and is now trapped underground until Greyson decides to terminate her. Mortally. And this side of her is very aware of Connor's isolation. He's been primed and groomed since he was six years old, forcefully smothered by Greyson Gunn's false uncle persona.

“Kid, you shouldn't… kiss Connor.” Victoria scrambles to figure out a way to explain this to her son. Romeo is a smart kid, sarcastic witty and full of attitude. Victoria hasn't been the most loving and gentle parent, knowing full well Romeo wouldn't be receptive to that sort of attention. He's just as brash and blunt and rude as she is. And now…

“Why? Is it because he's a mutant?”

“Sort of.” She decides to be honest. “Not that he's mutated. It's that he belongs to Greyson Gunn."

Romeo rolls his eyes again. “I know Greyson bought him, you've explained that to me.”

Maybe she's been too honest.

“No, kid, Romeo, think with me. I'm not his doctor.” She rests her hands on Romeo's shoulders. His pale eyes are wide, confused. He's a child. “He is the only one I'm not taking care of. He isn't allowed to spend time with Amaya or Gregory. He doesn't even have a caretaker watching over him.”

“That's why I'm watching him,” Romeo interjects. “I wanted to know what made him so different.”

“I've managed to keep Greyson away from Luna and Nori, you remember? And when Amaya came by, I made sure Greyson never spoke to her either?”

“As much as possible,” Romeo repeats the line Victoria is sure she's said so many times before.

“I can't protect Connor the same way.”

Romeo doesn't say anything, turning her words over in his mind, trying to understand. Of all the times Victoria had to be afraid to use her words, it was now. But she didn't know if outright saying ‘Connor is being groomed’ would be taken well by her kid. Would Romeo even understand? The guilt bubbling in her chest must also be a factor. She couldn't save Connor, and frankly, by the time she realized Connor was in danger… She was exhausted. Dealing with Prakei and Luna and Nori and Amaya and Greg (Surprisingly) as well as her job and son and lack of freedom exhausted her, and she didn't want to save Connor.

May God have mercy on her soul.

The maternal side hopes Romeo will be better than Victoria ever was.

“Relationships require Trust and Reliability. You will never be able to give Connor that Trust. When I say Greyson owns Connor, I don't mean legally. Connor's mind belongs to him. His beliefs are Greyson's beliefs. His morals are Greyson's morals. And if I've ever taught you anything, it's that Greyson Gunn is a man with no morals. You cannot trust Connor. You cannot rely on him. Understand?”

Romeo blinks, thinking hard, way too hard. Victoria can feel her life slipping away, second by second, in her well-lit kitchen with sage green painted cabinets and laminate countertops.

How did kids learn about romance? They copied whatever their parents or other adults in their lives did. In Romeo's case, he probably learned from the movies he watched with Victoria when he was younger before he thought himself an independent teen scientist. Wordlessly, Victoria walked away, heading for the dusty glass shelf in the living room, full of DVDs and VHS tapes. The VHSs were more kid-friendly, so Victoria picked out two VHSs and one DVD.

Romeo will do better than Victoria ever did. Maybe he can save Connor. She returns to the kitchen, and her son hasn't moved, still so deep in thought. Despite his attitude, perhaps he is still too young to grasp Connor's predicament.

“Here.” She announces her presence, placing the movies on the counter island. “This might help him learn.”

Romeo grimaces at the sight of kiddie fairy tale movies. This is what he gets for asking his mom for help.

Chapter Text

All three sat in Conference Room 107. It’s the closest to the outside they’ve been since they were brought down here. Level 1. A flight of stairs away.

They’re fourteen years old. A week ago, Luna and Nori ran away. Romeo and his mother left. Greg had been so, so anxious. What if Uncle Greyson knew he helped them? Would he hurt him, like how he hurts Amaya and Luna? Would he disappear, like the first mutant? What would happen?

But the three are sitting at a long table, on one side near the end, furthest from the door. Amaya shifts in her seat, eyes darting around. She counts and recounts, head twitching in rounds of six. Her nails and talons are fidgety. It makes Greg want to throw up from guilt. Opposite of her is Connor, who has been as still as a statue the whole time they’ve been in this room. His ears and tail twitch alongside any rampant chirps or trills Amaya makes against her will. He chirps back once, only to grimace and shake his head. That was a few minutes ago, and Connor hadn’t reacted to her since.

The door opens, finally. Greyson Gunn strolls in, wearing a pale blue suit, beard trimmed, hair parted cleanly, and pale green eyes. A scientist with long braids and thick glasses follows him. The sight of her makes Connor flinch, amber eyes wide. Greg thinks he might be expressing fear, but it really seems like Connor’s facial muscles are incapable of shifting and moving. The look on his face is uncanny.

“Hello, children. This is Dr. Stefani Nika. She will be the pediatrician to take over Dr. Mécano’s work.”

“Where is Dr. Mécano?” Amaya asks. Greg wonders about this as well, but Connor’s lips pursed before relaxing again. What does Connor know?

“Dr. Mécano is abroad, doing more research for me. In her absence, Dr. Nika will take care of you.” Greyson gestures to the doctor, who steps forward, holding two tablets.

“I simply need you to sign these forms. Just check the boxes for me, please.” She’s professional and cold. Not motherly like Ms. Mécano was. Greg already dislikes her. She gives him and Amaya a tablet.

“Connor doesn’t have a tablet?” Greg keeps his voice soft. Connor looks… angry. His face can emote anger easily enough.

“Mr. Martinez has been my patient since arriving at GUNNtech.” Dr. Nika explains factually. Amaya hands back the tablet, and Greg is quick to answer the consent forms and return his own tablet. She doesn’t say anything else, moving to give Greyson the floor.

“As you three are aware, we’ve lost Tsuchigumo Nori and Luna Saelim. They defected and ran off. From now on, they are to be seen as Domestic Terrorists.”

“What?” Amaya gasped. Greyson continued.

“GUNNtech has spent a fortune on improving their quality of life and curing terminal conditions that would have left them dead before they were eight.” Greyson has an aura of authority, standing tall and proud and puffing up his sick science experiments. It makes Greg want to slap him, just a bit. “We have given them abilities that surpass even Olympic-level athletes, and they abuse those abilities to cause harm and sow chaos. You were made for a purpose, to help serve the public, and the defects are a risk to that public.”

Greg raised a brow. Funny how they serve a purpose, but since Luna had a terminal illness, she didn’t have one, somehow. He didn’t know if that was true at all, Luna never said anything about it. But Greyson lied as easily as he breathed.

“Grey–Sir, why are we on level one?” Greg spoke up, keeping his voice as light as he could. Lying didn’t come as easy to him, unfortunately.

Someone knocked on the door. Dr. Nika moved to open it, and two more men walked in. A tense police officer and an even tenser old man in another suit. His hair was salt and pepper, he must be older than Greyson.

“Ah, good to see you, Josiah.” Greyson smiled warmly. He turned to the three kids as the newcomers sat down at the table. “Introduce yourselves, first and last names, and mutation.”

Greg and Amaya paused. Connor stood up, face stoic. “Connor Martinez, King Cheetah.” He sat down, giving the old man (Josiah?) a smile. Greg hesitated but stood up to follow, Amaya quick to the uptake.

“Gregory Gunn. Crocodile Monitor Lizard.” (The old man glances at Greyson, the corners of his lips twitching downwards. Greyson doesn’t notice or react.)

“Amaya Kobayashi. Tawny Owl.”

The old man nods slowly. “Josiah Whitaker. I am the Assistant Deputy Minister for the DRDC. What that means is I’m in charge of Canada’s defensive research, which includes GUNNtech and its wards. Originally, we were going to wait until the oldest of you were sixteen to introduce Police Procedure and the responsibilities that were expected of you, but because of the two rogue mutants, we’ve decided to bump up your training.”

“We have a purpose?” Amaya stares, incredulous.

Josiah chuckles, dry and mirthless. “Yes, you do. I wanted to see how Batch Two was coming along. I’ve read over your files and notes. Officer Tremblay will be your instructor for the next six months. Afterward, I’ll review Tremblay’s notes and if everything goes right, you’ll be able to go on patrol during the night shift.”

“Why the night shift?” Greg asked.

Dr. Nika answers. “Working at night will lower the risk that someone will see you before we are ready to present you to the public. That, and you are all nocturnal or crepuscular animals to begin with. You’ve been living on a nocturnal clock this entire time.”

Huh. Greg sits back in his chair. That’s… strange to learn. He’s never been awake during the day? It feels… wrong. Something chimes, and Josiah pulls out his phone and reads the notification. 

Well, I need to be heading back. Officer Tremblay is staying here, and I’ll be checking in every month. I might even send in our own recruit if things are going well.” Josiah got to his feet and shook Greyson’s hand.

Gregory wanted to throw up.

It's thundering outside. Romeo can hear the wind, strong and forceful. The house he hid in was safe from the elements, fortunately. It was his mother's, one she bought and paid for without any ties to GUNNtech, using a false name that no one could ever find. She was dead, though. 

Greyson was all smug about it. Sitting on his throne of an office chair, holding a glass of cheap bourbon hidden in an expensive bottle. Greyson doesn't even drink and uses that alcohol to impose the fact that he is an adult who preys on children. Who abuses children. Who manipulates children. 

It took a while to get used to Romeo's disabled body. His eye and leg were ruined, having been shot and scratched. Connor and Greyson lording over him, arrogant and cruel. Even now, Romeo will sometimes stand without his cane, and fall to the floor, his right leg buckling underneath his weight. Sometimes when he's out and about, someone standing on his right side will catch him off guard.

A doorbell goes off. Romeo didn't know he had a doorbell. He limps to the front door, opening it without bothering to check through the peephole — If GUNN's gonna finish the job, so be it. Holding a large umbrella, yet still somehow drenched stood Seksan. Or, she wasn't called Seksan anymore.

“Luna?” Romeo stepped aside, letting her in. She steps inside but stays near the front door. 

“Sorry, I'm all wet. I didn't have an umbrella.” Luna shrugs, closing her… umbrella. Romeo glances at it, one brow raised (His left one… the other one doesn't move as well anymore.) Luna rolls her eyes. “Some old lady gave me her umbrella in pity.” 

“Let me get a towel.” Romeo walks away. God, if he had a nickel for every wet mutant he had to take care of he'd have two nickels. Two nickels are too many. Romeo doesn't want any nickels. He comes back with a grey towel, and Luna has removed her coat, her long hair sticking to her neck and shoulders. She gratefully accepts the towel and starts drying off. 

“So, what made you come here?” Romeo looks around his home. Everything science-related is hidden in the garage and the third bedroom. 

“You helped Connor shift back into a human, right?” Romeo turns his head so fast, staring at Luna. 

“Yes. Why.” It's only been seven months since he got out. Since Luna and Nori snuck out of Headquarters. 

“Can you make me shift human?” Luna asks, a pleading look in her eyes. “Nori is human all the time, and he has to shift into his animal form. I'm from the same batch, so I should have a human form, right?” Luna moves to sit on a stiff white couch, no doubt staining the upholstery with her damp clothes. Oh well. Romeo thought those couches were ugly as sin anyway.

“No, you're not from the same batch.” Romeo corrects, still standing by the door. “You and Prakai were mutated by one group of researchers when you guys were a couple of months old, Nori wasn't mutated until they were four. By a completely different group of researchers. That's why they have a metal plate, and you don't. And that's why Connor and his batch have metal plates that act completely different from Nori's.” He starts moving towards the couch opposite of Luna, not yet sitting down. 

Luna frowns. “Why do you know all this stuff? Aren't I older than you?” 

“By a month or two.” Romeo nods. “But I went through and read every file I could get my hands on. I don't have all the details memorized, but I know a lot.”

“So can you help me? I'm sick all day, I can't live a life like this!” Luna threw her head back, slightly bouncing against the cushions. 

“I, I can try.” Romeo feels a very unusual sense of anxiety. He hadn't delved that deep into Luna's file, he has no real clue how her mutation works. He knows about the researchers because his mother ranted about it every time she had a little wine. Nonetheless, Romeo would try.

Connor watches Greg leave in a helicopter. A training camp, Greyson has explained. To teach Gekko how to be a better leader and soldier. A more useful tool. Connor stands on a balcony with a strong hand on his shoulder, keeping him there. Greyson is grinning, watching the helicopter take his nephew away. 

“What now, sir?” Connor asks. The sun rose a few hours ago. The event with Romeo's freeze ray and the attempted break in a few days after was only two weeks ago. It's surprising that Greyson would take that long to address Gregory's failure since he normally went as hard on that kid as he did Connor. Normally.

"Punishment workouts."

Greyson tilts his head in acknowledgment. “I do believe I have a meeting with Officer Tremblay this morning, to discuss our PJM plan. With Gekko being gone and Owlette being as difficult as she is, it seems I may have to move forward with you as my primary success.” 

“Me?” Connor's ears perked up. Greyson turns his gaze to him, full of pride. 

“Yes, my boy! You've done wonderfully these last trial years! There may have been a slip or two, but I know those were learning periods for us both.” Greyson pulls him in for a side hug, tight and warm and comforting. 

"You're replaceable, Connor. Don't you forget it."

“Thank you, sir. I've learned a lot, thanks to you.” Connor grins, bright and childish. Greyson's eyebrow twitched, and Connor slowly blinked, fear crawling up his tail towards his spine. His smile is still light and loose. Did he lay it on too thick? Greyson didn't like a suck-up.

But Greyson only moves the hand on Connor's shoulder, sliding up to Connor's jaw. “I think this deserves a celebration, yes?” He steps away, heading to the small cart with alcohol on it. Greyson flips two glasses, uncorking the large bottle full of amber liquid and pouring two small drinks. He spins around, holding one cup out for Connor to take. 

Connor reaches out and takes the cup with both hands. The glass is heavy, and sort of ridged against the pads of his fingers. He can smell the drink, burning like the alcohol Amaya uses to disinfect her earrings. 

“Go on, Connor.” Greyson's sharp green eyes are half-lidded, his lips curling into a smile. Connor wants to smash the glass against the old man's head and run away to cry. 

He takes a sip and gags. Greyson bursts out into a deep laughing fit, still so proud and kind and fatherly. 

“I don't like this.” Connor grimaces, his sandpaper tongue tingling. He picks his lips, trying to get rid of the taste. Greyson calms down, breathing deeply. 

“Drink more, boy. At least the whole glass.” Greyson smiles joyously. Connor's stomach drops. 

“W-why?” He stammers. He's alone on the balcony and there isn't anyone on the other side of the glass doors leading to Greyson's office. They're in the middle of a park on the outskirts of Tarabiscoville, where there are no buildings or hikers. Greg just left and Amaya is sleeping off her night shift. 

Greyson Gunn loses his smile. “When you are revealed to the public, you will be a man. You will be important, desired.” His voice is deep. Greyson gets closer, and places a hand on the small of Connor's back, above his tail. A threat. “You will be offered drinks at glamorous parties, and I will not have a GUNNtech representative gag in front of such important politicians.” He grabs Connor's chin and turns his face towards his own. His eyes are still half-lidded. Connor can smell smoke on his breath. The hand on his chin leaves and instead grabs the glass he's still gripping with both hands, moving it towards Connor's mouth.

“Now, drink.” Greyson is staring, eyes connecting with Connor's. It gives him a feeling similar to when Romeo would pull him close like this, tall and domineering. Fear. 

Connor throws the glass back, swallowing the whole drink in one go. He pushes Greyson away, sputtering and coughing. God, this tastes awful.

“Thank you, Mr. Martinez. You may leave.” Greyson fiddles with his suit as if Connor could have made him look in any sort of disarray. Connor takes his leave, pulling the doors open and dropping the glass on Greyson's desk. He exits the office, breaking into a sprint as soon as he's able.

Luna sits in an uncomfortable office chair. It's still raining outside. Probably won't stop until tomorrow. Romeo left to do whatever in his garage. A solid door in the kitchen, with no windows. It's painted white like the walls, and there are stains littering the bottom half. One of the stains is a small handprint in orange, smearing close to the handle. Did Romeo live here when he was young?

The door opens, and Romeo is now wearing a lab coat, goggles on his head, pushing his hair back. He gestures to Luna, inviting her to come into the dark and spooky room. Luna follows because she has no self-preservation.

Inside is a chair and a monitor. Luna knows how this works, the lab nerds in GUNN loved to run various tests on her, making her life hell. Luna sits down and picks at her nails, peeling off stinging skin and watching as her blood bubbles out. 

“If I remember correctly, the machinery they used on you is still in your chest, but not as accessible as the chest plates.” Romeo comes close, holding a gun-looking object connected to a large computer monitor. “I'm going to scan you and see if I can find some way to access it all. I don't have any proper x-ray equipment, so let me know if you feel anything.” And with that fun warning, Romeo aims the gun at her chest and presses the trigger. The monitor beeps, and Luna doesn't feel any different. 

Romeo turns the monitor so Luna can see the display. It's her ribcage, with white glowing stuff all tangled in her lungs and bones. It seems to be all on her left side, reaching up toward her neck. Romeo frowns. 

“Stand up and turn.” 

Luna obeys, and her left side is scanned. She twists her head to glance at the screen. The machinery stops in her neck, located near her spine. A small cord is bundled near her skin on the nape of her neck, to the left of the vertebrae. 

“It's all in your heart and nervous system.” Romeo rests the gun at his side. He points at the monitor. “That's the brain stem, and the port I could have used to access all of this is this cord. The only way to reach it is to cut it out.”

“Could have?” Luna straightens up. She's taller than Romeo, but she's certain he's about to grow soon. “What do you mean, could have?”

“I don't want to…” Romeo scratches the scar on his face. It's still red, not completely healed yet. “That stuff, your heart, and stem, it's incredibly delicate. The machinery there is either keeping you alive, or you've had it inside your body for so long that messing with it could cause more harm than good. I can probably reach the cord, but I would need you awake to make sure you don't go brain-dead.”

Luna swallowed. “Would it hurt?” Her fingertips are bleeding, small tears that dry quickly. 

“I can numb the area.” Romeo stares at the monitor. “But… it will be uncomfortable. And this could paralyze you, or kill your brain, or… countless other things.”

The machinery buzzed in the silence. A white noise that blended well with the thoughts racing in Luna's head. 

“Please, try.” 

Amaya was hungry. It clawed in her stomach and blurred her vision. Her limbs were shaky. Her left wrist was wrapped in a cast, unable to move or bend. It was late at night, around 0300, if her internal clock wasn't wrong. The door was broken, one of the caretakers slammed the door a few days ago, and the lock stopped working over time. She snuck out, quiet and careful, searching for the kitchens. Amaya knew food would be in the kitchen, maybe something she would want to eat.

Romeo plunged a needle into her skin, and after ten minutes the unfamiliar cold of anesthetic crawled over her neck. Luna shivered. The lab chair was set up so she could sit backward in the chair, lying on her chest. 

“Feeling okay?” Romeo checks, for the millionth time. He's nervous, and that fact makes Luna terrified. 

“Just go on with it. Fuck, you're stressing me out.”

The kitchen is dimly lit by lights underneath the foot of the counters, a pale blue. Why the kitchen would need nighttime lights confuses her. But there are vegetable sticks in the wide fridge. Amaya takes some, and the crunch is very comforting. 

“Hey! What do you think you're doing!” A male voice calls out, loud and authoritative. She jumps, spinning around. No one is there? 

There are people outside the kitchen, whispering now. Amaya creeps forward, sticking to the shadows. Maria and Victoria's kid. Or… not Maria? Her hair is short. Amaya’s sure someone said something about Maria not being Maria anymore. Victoria's kid is shoving Not-Maria into the wall, growling into Not-Maria's face, baring his teeth. 

“You watch your tone, okay?” Victoria's kid orders. His tone is one of dominance. Not-Maria isn't obeying. She shoves him away, tail lashing and pupils narrow. She starts heading for the kitchen, and Amaya panics, leaping away to hide in the shadows of a blast freezer, pressed against the wall. 

“Hey, listen to me when I'm talking to you!” Victoria's kid follows Not-Maria, angry, and frustrated. 

“Don't wanna.” Not-Maria snarks, searching through the fridge. She doesn't notice the missing vegetables; those are for Greg, primarily. 

Victoria's kid seethes, grabbing her wrist and yanking her back, throwing Not-Maria into the stainless steel countertops. The fridge door is left open, ignored. “What the hell is wrong with you, cat?” Not-Maria's ribs are going to bruise tomorrow. But still, she stands up and gives him a defiant, smug grin. 

“Try me.” She rumbles. Is… is Not-Maria looking for a fight? 

Like lightning, Victoria's kid reaches out, pulling something from a block on the kitchen workspace, and stabs it into Not-Maria's stomach. Not-Maria gasps, hunched forward, hands resting on her attackers' shoulders. The knife — that's what it was, a small steak knife — stayed where it was, lodged into Not-Maria's lower abdomen. Victoria's kid leans back, hands caressing Not-Maria's face. Bile burns in Amaya's throat, and she's no longer paying attention to what the other two are saying. Eventually, Victoria's kid leaves, and Not-Maria is holding herself against the counter, panting heavily, face flushed. The knife is still inside her body, past her skin. 

“I know you're there, Amaya.” She turned to stare directly into her eyes. 

“What?” Amaya flinches. “How?” 

Not-Maria's nose twitches. “Smelled you.” She approaches the fridge, but the door is still hanging open. “And the bell peppers were missing.” 

Oh… she did notice the missing food. 

“You should go to the infirmary,” Amaya suggests. Not-Maria shakes her head. 

“Nah, Nika would want to know what happened, then Greyson would know I've been sneaking out, and I wouldn't be able to hang out with Romeo anymore.”

Amaya moves to the floor, leaving her hiding spot. “You can't be serious.”

“Yep.” The cat pulls out a carton of orange juice, opens it, and drinks it straight, no cup or anything. Amaya shudders. 

“I'm calling Victoria anyway.” Amaya threatens, Looking around for an internal landline. One, by the kitchen doors. An old green phone. She has the doctor's number memorized since she breaks too many bones. Not-Maria sighs heavily.

“Do whatever.”

Luna can feel the separation of her skin. Or something similar to it. She can feel so many sensations on her neck, and anxiety is spinning them all out of control.

“Almost done. I just need to find the cord and pull it out.” Romeo mutters to himself. Luna doesn't say anything about it. The pulling of the cord made her want to scratch at her neck, frantically and desperately. But Luna just lays there, unmoving.

“There. I will clean out the port, and then connect it with my computer, and see what all I can do.”

It only takes ten minutes for Dr. Mécano to rush into the kitchen, eyes alight with worry and her mouth set into a grim frown. Amaya and Not-Maria (Connor, apparently his name is Connor) sit on the kitchen island, holding hands. It's Amaya's way of making sure the idiot boy doesn't run off to power through a stab wound alone. 

“Connor, what in the world happened?” Dr. Mécano wastes no time opening her extensive emergency first aid kit, pulling out a thick envelope labeled ‘Connor’. 

Connor only shrugs. “I pissed him off. You know how we are.” 

“That I do.” Her tone is disapproving, and Amaya just… has to wonder how often Romeo harms Connor. She didn't know that Romeo spent any amount of time with the mutants. He always seemed to be on his laptop or handheld game device every time Amaya happened to run into him. She watches as Dr. Mécano pulls out the knife, stopping the bleeding and stitching the wound up, putting on that miracle wound cream that makes the stitches look weeks old instead of brand new. 

“Ms. Kobayashi, now that you are certain your friend will be okay, I must ask you to return to your room.” Dr. Mécano raises an eyebrow. “And, of course, please keep all of this to yourself. It won't do Connor or I any good if Mr. Gunn catches wind of this.” 

Amaya nodded fervently, and hopped off the counter, leaving the kitchen and walking away. At least, the farthest she could go and still hear what was being said inside. 

“Connor, I'm going to be honest, when I learned you and Romeo were running around together, I thought you were the one I'd need to be afraid of.” What in the world does that mean? “But time after time I'm being called to heal you because you make Romeo mad enough to lose his rational thoughts. I believed that after you guys bonded, whether with the movies or whatever other way you guys decided to bond — Don't tell me, I don't want to hear about it — But I think this is the last straw. I'm going to tell Greyson.”

“What?” Connor whined. “Why? He's gonna be so mad!” It's… childish, the way he's acting. Different from the spiteful person he was around Romeo, and the calm person he was around Amaya. Now he's full of fourteen-year-old brattiness that unnerves Amaya. 

“I dislike him as much as you do, but I need you two to be separate, at least for the next little while, okay? It's not healthy to be at each other's throats like this.” 

Amaya's stomach lurches. The bell peppers aren't agreeing with her. As much as she'd love to continue eavesdropping, vomiting in the halls is a surefire way of getting caught.

Romeo sits in Luna's line of sight, squinting at his laptop. Luna's neck is still open. 

“Do you recognize this at all?” Romeo Turns the laptop towards Luna. On the screen is a mess of colors and strings of non-English characters. They're sharp in some places and rounded in others, the letters built in a way that made Luna… nostalgic. 

“I think I've seen it before.” Luna shrugs, then winces as her blood dribbles down her spine. It's an off-color, according to Romeo. A little pinkish-red. “But I don't know where, or when, or what it means at all.”

Romeo leans back in his chair, dragging his hand across his face. “I can't help you with this, then. I don't know what any of this says.” 

“Oh.” Luna frowns. “Well, at least we gave it a try?” She wants to scream and thrash and sob. But she just sits there and lets Romeo disconnect his laptop, shove the cord back into her neck, and sew it up. After this, she's gonna find a gym or something so she can just absolutely wreck the shit out of it. 

“I… apologize,” Romeo mutters as Luna sits up, changing out of a paper medical gown and back into her clothes. The storm is still raging outside. “I don't think you should leave right now.”

“What?” Luna leaves the lab and heads for the front door. It's locked, but Luna can easily twist the deadbolt and escape. Romeo stands on the other side of the room, face passive and flat as fuck. “I'm leaving.”

“Do you have shelter?” Romeo asks, but Luna doesn't give a shit about his comfort. He's just touchy he couldn't solve her problem, she's sure. Now he needs to solve something and Luna refuses to be any more of a charity case. 

“Fuck off. Thanks for nothing.” Luna leaves the door wide open, her silhouette quickly disappearing in the rain, fog, and hail. It hurts like a motherfucker but her pride and dignity are more important than that shit. Plus, she does have a place to stay; Nori managed to secure a lone warehouse. It's cold and dark but it will stop the rain. And tomorrow night she'll find a night gym and work out her frustrations on something that can't bleed. 

Wait until tomorrow night. Just… wait all the shit out. Everything will work out in the end.