Chapter Text
Cassian winced as he opened his eyes. He raised an arm to shield his face from the light and groaned. He felt absolutely awful, like he’d been shot and slammed through three concrete walls. What had happened?
He was definitely in the hospital—a Lampas medical facility more accurately. The sterile smell of disinfectant and cleaning products was immediately recognizable. He heard the beeping of the monitor and if he listened carefully he could just barely make out the sound of the staff bustling around outside the private room. The distinctive white and grey panel ceiling that met his eyes was only further confirmation. He was in the hospital.
But, why was he in the hospital?
Cassian wondered as he tried to sit up in his bed. He stifled a cry the sudden movement brought from his side. The pain wasn’t horrible, more a constant throbbing ache in the background. So he was definitely on some kind of painkiller—that would explain why his head was so foggy.
Trying to remember, Cassian winced and grabbed his forehead. His head was pounding.
Short-term memory loss from the anaesthesia might explain Cassian’s current disorientation. He didn’t think that was how anaesthesia worked though so perhaps a major concussion? Cassian wasn’t a doctor, but hadn’t one of the upperclassmen at the academy lost four months of her memory after a skiing accident? Cassian hoped nothing that severe had happened to him though.
“What happened?”
“That’s what we want to know. No dice it seems.” Cassian recognized that voice. He looked up and saw Jack was leaning against the closed door to his hospital room. How had Cassian missed him? He must be on more drugs than he’d originally thought.
“Jack,” Cassian squinted at the other S-rank Psyker. Fuck, his head hurt so much. It was hard to concentrate. “Where am I?”
“Lampas Headquarters, Greece branch.”
“Greece?” Cassian repeated, incredulous. Last he remembered he was in Washington DC, America—a completely different continent. “What the fuck am I doing in Greece?”
“We were hoping you’d be able to tell us that, Cassian,” Jack sighed, taking a seat in one of the plastic visitors chairs next to Cassian’s bed. “We have some theories, but I was only there for the tail end of things. What is the last thing you remember?”
Cassian thought about it and winced. Thinking back hurt, the mere act of trying to remember felt like he was stabbing nails into his brain. For a moment, he can see himself drinking tea outside of a cafe, his surrounding idyllic and peaceful. He should thank Jef—Cassian hissed and grabbed his head. The pain was blinding.
“What’s wrong?” Jack stood up. “Cassian, are you okay?”
Cassian grimaced as the pain dulled with his return to the present. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a hell of a migraine. Don’t worry, a bit of pain won’t keep me down.”
“I understand,” Jack nodded and reached out to briefly squeeze Cassian’s shoulder in silent support. Then he prompted, “So, the last thing you remember?”
Cassian closed his eyes and thought back, carefully. “I…was leaving Director Schiller’s office at the DC headquarters. The damn clown escaped and I was put on probation. There was a vending machine and I was talking on the phone. And then—” Cassian couldn’t stifle the gasp of pain “…I can’t remember.”
There was something there, like the memory was on the tip of Cassian’s tongue; however, the moment he reached for it, ice picks were violently driven into his grey matter. Cassian couldn’t remember the last time pain had brought tears to his eyes, but he’d take a third degree burn over this pain any day.
“I see,” Jack said, voice sympathetic. “I'll tell you what we know.”
“Thanks,” Cassian shifted, leaning back in his bed. His side still hurt, but that pain was dulled by the anesthesia.
“We don’t know why you were in Rhodes—you didn’t tell anyone where you were going or why. You requested a week off for personal reasons and booked a flight to Greece. Cell phone records indicate Jeff called you and your conversation lasted around five minutes,” Jack explained. “You arrived in Greece soon after on Saturday at 7:45 PM. Using your credit card and where your phone pinged off cell towers, you proceeded to go sightseeing and engage in the typical tourist activities. You went completely dark at 6:35 PM on Wednesday. What happened between that time and your rescue is currently unknown though we have suspicions.”
“Rescued how? If I went dark, how did you find me?” Cassian asked, raising an eyebrow. His head pounded and it was hard to think clearly, but he had questions. “And you mentioned Jeff?”
“Yes,” Jack nodded. “We had suspicions that Jeff had been involved with some…questionable people and activities in recent months. Lyra and—”
“What? Bullshit!” Cassian interrupted, unable to stay silent while listening to such nonsense. Jeff was the kindest and most moral person Cassian knew. The man was so empathic that he couldn’t bring himself to kill a villain let alone harm a fly. Jeff would never involve himself with anything remotely shady. “Jeff is—”
Jack held up a placating hand. “Cassian, let me finish speaking. I know some of what I have to say will be hard to hear, but please reserve your judgement until you have the whole picture.”
“…Fine.”
“Good, now as I was saying, Lyra and I were in Rhodes in order to find Jeff and take him in for questioning. He was suspected of colluding with villains and—”
“Jeff would never—“
“Cassian.”
“…” Cassian huffed, but he settled down. Whatever Jack had to say about Jeff, better be good.
“…I understand you were close to Jeff, Cassian. He was a good man,” Jack said. “And I agree with you. I don’t think he was in the wrong, I believe he was being manipulated—especially given the state you were found in.”
Cassian blinked, puzzled. “The state I was found in?” Well, clearly he was in bad shape, but how did that tie into Jeff being manipulated by villains? Cassian knew how Jeff fought; even if mine-controlled, he couldn’t have been responsible for his injuries.
Jack exhaled deeply and briefly closed his eyes as if reliving an unpleasant memory. “You were half crazed when Lyra and I found you. You attacked us out of nowhere, raving about us being murderers and how there would be nothing left of us but ashes.”
“I…attack you?”
“Subduing you without killing you was not an easy task by any means,” Jack confirmed as he gestured to his bandaged arm. Cassian had burned himself enough in his early years training to be able to know he was looking at a burn wound. Jack continued. “You put up one hell of a fight. The wound in your side is from one of Lyra’s sniper ice attacks—she told me to pass along her apologies for by the way. She feels bad. She managed to take you down, but keeping you alive was touch and go for a while there.”
Attacking his own comrades, what sort of psyker was he? And Lyra was the one feeling guilty for stopping him? Cassian felt horrible.
“It's okay, kid,” Jack said, as if detecting Cassian’s inner turmoil. “None of this was your fault. Nobody blames you.”
Objectively, Cassian understood that to be true. When someone was controlled by a villain and forced to commit violence, they were victims not perpetrators. However, knowing that didn’t make Cassian feel any less shitty about it. Shitty and angry.
Cassian stewed in silence for several moments before a horrible possibility dawned on him.
Jeff.
Jack had said Jeff had been in Rhodes too, right?
“Jack, what about Jeff?” Cassian demanded. “He is okay, right? I didn’t hurt him.”
Jack didn’t answer; however, his expression said it all. Cassian could feel his world falling apart around him as ice filled his veins. He felt so cold. Jeff couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be.
“I know you and Jeff were close, but he…Jeff didn’t make it. I’m sorry, Cassian,” Jack spoke softly and slowly, as if trying to calm an animal on the verge of panic. “But…you didn’t kill Jeff. We found the body—he died by blade not by fire.”
What sort of consolation was that, that Jeff hadn’t died by Cassian’s own hand, when Jeff—his mentor, his best friend, his big brother—was dead. What kind of goddamn joke was this? Cassian laughed, he couldn’t help the broken and desperate sound escaping from his lungs. None of this was fucking funny.
Fuck villains, Cassian hated them so much. Villains were nothing more than scum that plague the rest of humanity—hurting and killing and taking and taking until nothing remained, taking perverse pleasure in the devastation left in their wake. Cassian hated them so much it PhYSicALly huRTs.
WhY cOuLDn’t vILlaiNS JuSt DIe aNd DISapPEaR?
“Cassian? Cassian!”
In that moment, Cassian desired nothing more than to BuRn tHe VilLaiNOus BAsTaRd wHo mURdeReD JeFF UnTIl thErE wERen’T EVen aShEs lEfT tO gRInD BenEAth thE hEEl oF hIs boOt. AvENgiNg JEff iN a gLorIOuS bLaZE, hoW sATisFYiNg ANd FulfiLLinG WoULd ThaT bE?
Jack is shouting something. Cassian couldn’t hear him though, or perhaps he just didn’t care. The roar of rage downed everything else out. The tendrils of black and purple energy flickering and flare off of him were irreverent background details in the face of his all consuming anger.
HoW swEeT WOuLd iT bE? ThE bAStaRd’S sCreaMs As ThEy beGGeD fOr mErcY aS hE BUrnEd thE fuCkER AliVE? MeRcY, thE viLLaIn, haD deNIeD JefF aNd aLL oF thEIr otHeR v Ic TiMs. AnD WhY sToP wITh oNe? BuRn THe FucKIng cLOwN NeXt. MAkE aLl tHe mOnSteRs pAy. ViLlaiNs dID nOThiNG bUt RuiN L ivES.
The sound of hissing from the air vent was noted and dismissed. Cassian wanted revenge, desired it—tO hUrt tHE oNeS WhO hAd HUrt hiM—so badly that he felt light headed with righteous fury as he laughed and sobbed with grief and rage.
He felt so so cold.
And…tired.
Everything was out of focus. Cassian’s rage began to slip away in a haze. The room might have been spinning? Why were there dust fairies in the light? He should tell Jack about that, that every speck of dust was actually a fairy in disguise. Fairies were real and had been deceiving humanity for centuries…scientists needed…to know about this…
Darkness.