Chapter Text
Kate leans forward in her seat a little, seeing the connection that she had seen numerous times in the past month, just like she did a few days prior, and a few days before that. It's been about a month since U.N.I.T's interaction with the Vellatrax at Wychwood University. Weeks since the start of her focus on M155 5M17H and the small team she created with her most trusted inner circle. Kate notices the terminal opening, the input of a command that she does not type, then the notepad application opening. Simple. Gets the job done.
«Hello, Commander.»
Looking at the words, Kate knows exactly who it is. Her fingers hesitate over top of the keyboard portion of her laptop. Fingers touching the plastic key-caps as she watches the blinking of the cursor at the end of the word. Kate licks her lips in thought, giving herself a moment before pressing her fingers to trigger the key press. "Miss Smith, I take it?" She thinks, watching the screen, yearning to read another word by this familiar stranger.
«M155 5M17H.» The text box corrects. «Are you any closer to finding me?»
Furrowing her brow, Kate finds the question interesting, "Why do you think I'm looking for you?" She says aloud to herself as she types the words out, finding the action makes it easier to type somehow.
«I'm aware of the small team you've assembled.»
How would they know about that? Kate thinks to herself as she shakes her head a little, not quite understanding how this person would know anything about that unless they were a part of that team or have a way of bugging her offices. She doesn't type, trying to play chess with her thought process and responses.
«It's cute.»
The response causes a huff of a laugh to escape Kate's mouth before she says quietly as she types the words, "How are you following us?"
«You're an expert in that, Commander?»
Kate raises an interested eyebrow, her fingers aren't necessarily slow, but she isn't a fast typist either. "You were at the University before we were. That isn't following." She continues to say her responses aloud, mostly to ensure she isn't typing anything incorrect.
«We can take turns following one another. I don't mind.»
"Why are you so interested?" Kate mutters as she types the words, reaching a hand out after and taking hold of her mug, bringing it to her lips for a sip. After sipping longer than she thought she would, she sets the mug down again. How many times has this even been now? She's glad her office door is closed.
«Eternally curious.»
Kate smiles a little to herself. "Would you be willing to meet?" There is something about the stranger, despite how many protocols they break each time they reach out, that she finds…heartwarming.
«I thrive in anonymity. You'll just have me arrested.»
Furrowing her brow, Kate leans forward, typing again, "why do you think I'd have you arrested?"
«Because I find holes in the security of your organization.»
Kate's face softens, nodding a little as she types again, "how do you know I wouldn't offer you a job instead?" She watches the blinking cursor in anticipation, leaning back against her chair and folding her arms over her chest. Kate begins to think of each time she's reached out to, as if whoever is chatting knows she's in her office.
«Admitting that there are holes in your security means your boyfriend isn't doing a very good job.»
Those words cause Kate's back to stiffen and she doesn't know if she wants to respond, simply staring at the screen.
«Look alive, Commander.»
Kate startles at the sound of a rap of knuckles against the wooden door to her secluded office. Closing her eyes briefly before responding, "come in." She opens her eyes when the door is opened, revealing Rose Noble standing there. "Yes?"
"I'm sorry for interrupting. Melanie sent me. There's um…" Rose pauses, thinking of the best way to say it, "I can try to explain it, but I think it would probably be easier if you saw it."
Glancing back at her laptop monitor, Kate notices all traces of M155 5M17H are gone, and even a part of her is curious whether she didn't just imagine the brief interaction. No, she couldn't have. Kate clears her throat as she stands, obtaining her blazer from the back of her chair, pulling it on as she walks towards the entry door of her office.
Rose leads the Commander towards the hanger deck office space, where there, on the large panoramic screen above their heads, was home movies playing.
Home movies of Kate and a young Gordon with her father. Home movies of Kate and her daughter. Home movies of…many things.
Her home movies.
Kate steps past the young woman, moving ever so slowly towards the center of the office space.
Everyone is watching. Everyone is aware of…how soft she used to be, how maternal she was once.
"Turn it off." Kate calls out, not knowing who in the space has the capability.
"We didn't turn it on, ma'am." Shirley replies quietly, able to see the panic on her superior's face, "and our attempts to cut the feed are-"
"This is a broadcast?" Kate quickly glances to her scientific advisor, then back up at the screen.
"We haven't found any other uploads or live streams to any other websites." Shirley assures, keeping her voice quiet.
Kate feels her eyes begin to prickle with tears and she does her best not to allow them to fall, noticing Christofer trying to find the outlet for the device. It must have a power cord. The screen changes to a familiar humanoid cartoon, non-binary dressed character, with skin that swirls with the pattern of a purple galaxy. Kate to holds a hand up, shouting to stop her partner's movements, "wait!"
"Hope you enjoyed these, Commander." The cartoon character gives a wink, still using the voice of the deceased Queen. "Tag, you're it."
The feed cuts suddenly.
Still standing in the middle of the hanger deck, Kate slowly lowers her hand, taking a moment to calm her own breathing. "I'll…be in my office." She turns, quickly making her way back up the ramp, moving toward her isolated office.
"You didn't need to come with me." Frankie exhales softly, her hands in the pockets of her tan corduroy jacket, one her mother would often wear when working in her garden. "I'm just…I just need to make sure Gordy is…"
Violet, following closely behind her girlfriend, loops her arm around Frankie's as they walk. "I'm too nosy not to come," She replies simply, "what are you worried of seeing at his place anyway? The place being a wreck? Did he not do his laundry correctly? Leave a dish in the sink?"
Though her partner's attempts at humor are refreshing, Frankie sighs to herself, "he um…he hasn't phoned in a few days. The only time he does that is when he's trying to hide from me."
"He could also be busy at work, no?" Violet offers, only letting go of Frankie's arm to follow her up the stairs to her brother's home. "U.N.I.T, from what you've told me, doesn't seem like a job where one isn't busy or under some sort of pressure."
"It's different for my brother and I." Frankie shakes her head, "we touch base at least once a day. Even if it's via a quick text message. Could be something as simple as asking what the other is having for tea or making a quick joke." A soft half-smile forms in the corner of her mouth, "it's something we promised one another a long time ago. No matter what, you check in with the other person." Frankie swallows, falling quiet.
"That's a good way to look out for one another." Violet gives her girlfriend a reassuring wink, placing a hand to Frankie's lower back.
Frankie slides the key into the lock, disengaging it before pushing the door open, and carefully enters. She doesn't call out. Not yet. The darkness of the hallway is lit only by the flashes of the television in the living room area.
Gordon, however, isn't on the sofa or in that ugly overstuffed recliner chair that he was so excited about buying.
"I'll take the kitchen, you check his room and the bath?" Violet offers, seeing her partner's half-hearted nod. "Darling," She starts, garnering Frankie's attention, "everything's going to be fine. We'll do what needs doing. Got it?"
"Yeah," Frankie whispers, accepting a quick, encouraging kiss from her girlfriend. She watches the other woman walk away for a brief moment before she turns, making her way to her brother's bedroom.
She doesn't need to go very far, however.
Lying on the hardwood floor near the door to the bedroom, is Gordon, unconscious.
"Shit," Frankie whispers, kneeling next to him. "Gordy?" She doesn't shout, but her voice is steady and raised. Concerned. Frankie keeps her wits about her. "Gordy, can you hear me?" She roughly rubs her knuckles against his sternum, remembering the First Aid training she had gotten as a younger teenager. Trying her best to get him to react.
Violet appears at the end of the hallway, seeing the actions of her girlfriend, "is he breathing?" She reaches into the pocket of her cargo trousers, retrieving her mobile phone from her pocket.
Frankie doesn't answer, her jaw tightening and chin trembling slightly. Her hand moves to his neck, thankfully, able to find a pulse. Frankie exhales softly, closing her eyes as she sighs with relief.
There's a cut at Gordon's forehead, leading to his eyebrow. A distinct smell of cheap alcohol at his breath. Not beer or ale, something harder.
Catching the smell when she leans down to assess for breathing sounds, Frankie swallows down her emotions, doing her best to calm herself. Especially right now. She needs to be strong for her brother. Needs to be the mature one here.
"Paramedics are en route." Violet explains, moving closer to Gordon, kneeling on his opposite side. She reaches a hand across, gently placing her hand over Frankie's. "He's breathing and he has a pulse." Violent reassures her girlfriend, "probably just had a bit too much of the drink and knocked his noggin on the door frame." Violet points to a spot she had noticed on the door frame with a bit of blood.
Frankie nods a little, knowing her girlfriend is probably right, "that's the problem though." She licks her lips anxiously, "the drink."
"He probably had a rough day, Frank. I don't think it's anything to worry about." Violet shakes her head absently as she speaks.
"Because you're Irish," Frankie replies in jest, sitting back on her heels. "No, he um…he turns to it like a crutch. When he isn't feeling himself, when he…" She pauses briefly, looking down at her brother's unconscious form, "always alone, always…hiding." Frankie swallows, her fingers stroking through her brother's dirty blonde colored hair, using it as a tool to continue calming herself, "hiding from society, hiding from the world…hiding from me."
Violet nods a little after a moment, "is there anything helpful I can do for you while we wait for the ambulance?"
Frankie thinks of the question for a moment, clearing her throat before motioning towards his dresser drawers with a wave of her free hand, still stroking his hair with the other, "he'll need a shirt and um…just something he'll be able to wear when we leave hospital."
"Sure," Violet carefully pushes herself up from the floor, turning on the bedroom light before walking over to the drawers of clothing, as instructed by her partner. "If you hear sirens, let me know so I can grab them."
"He hasn't been like this since Mum died." Frankie continues softly, half speaking to herself and half speaking to her partner. "It's fucking U.N.I.T." She shakes her head a little, "it isn't like it was when my Grandad created it. Now they've got their…grubby little mitts in everything and just…takes and takes and takes from us. Knocking down Lethbridge-Stewarts left and right."
"He isn't dead, Frankie. Just pissed." Violet mutters, shaking her head absently, "you told me once that he's got through this before, we can help him do so again."
"As long as he's at U.N.I.T, it's going to continue…if not get worse." Frankie continues, pausing briefly before continuing, "two of the tasks he's regularly assigned is to transcribe audio records and to translate written information into digital format. The problem is that he's been actively seeking out Mum's files to work on. Over and over. One would think he'd have run out by now after a month."
Violet makes a stack of the clothing, finding an empty drawstring bag he normally uses for his gym clothing, putting the clothing she had chosen from the drawers inside instead, "and his boss hasn't said anything?"
"I don't think she cares as long as it's all getting done." Frankie answers softly, looking down at her brother again, then lifting her head when she hears the sounds of sirens closing in on their location. "Vi-"
"I'll grab them. Don't worry." Violet calls out, already jogging towards the entrance.
Frankie waits until her partner leaves the space before she looks down at her brother again, muttering softly to him, "I'm taking care of everything, Gordy. Don't worry."
"Yeah, I'll uh…I'll let her know." Christofer mutters into his mobile phone, sitting at the edge of the bed he shares with his partner. Knowing she had a bad day, this was the worst thing he could possibly say to her.
Kate returns from washing her face and applying cold cream, one of her nightly routines. She could have sworn she had heard Christofer talking and she doesn't need to ask, she can tell by the look on his face. "Who was that?" Kate's tone is light, trying to make it sound like casual conversation
Christofer lifts his head, looking at his lover with those sad hazel eyes.
"What is it?" Kate asks again, framing her question slightly different. His face, his face tells her everything she needs to know.
Something is wrong.
"It's your son." Christofer begins, watching her cautiously, "he's been rushed to hospital."