Seeing as it was mid-day, the halls were fairly empty. Everyone was likely out on assignment or throwing themselves into training – the paranoia and questions about the intrusion presumably still at the forefront of their minds. If Catherine continued to withhold the true reason for the alarm, there would no doubt be a stream of whispers throughout the halls in no time. People would draw their own conclusions based on farfetched assumptions, and knowing what I did, it almost seemed easier to be kept in the dark and tasked with the guess work.
With my mind whirling, I kept my head down and my steps purposeful as I made my way towards my room. It was the only place I felt like I could process what I'd learned without my thoughts and emotions going awry.
Shutting the door behind me minutes later, I let out a shaky breath.
No matter how small it'd been, there'd still been a part of me that had hoped my involvement in all of this was a fluke. That, despite the fact I was Catherine's daughter, the Gemini Clan had pulled my name up by accident. Now though, that hope was squashed. Damon, the leader of the Gemini Clan, was my father. He had intended to use me to bargain with S.I.C.O to obtain one of their original weapons.
The words, the facts, they replayed over and over again in my head, growing larger and more prominent with each second that passed. The rational part of my mind was telling me that Catherine had been sincere with her words – that her words had been true, but then there was the part of me that wanted to stay angry. And not just at the situation, but at everyone who'd been a part of bringing me to Division 27 in the first place. From Beckett to Catherine, Joe to Finn, all the agents that'd been assigned to protect me, and Kira, who'd betrayed my trust – all of them now stood as reasons why I couldn't go back to my old life.
Most of all however, my anger was directed towards the Gemini Clan. More specifically, towards their leader.
If Damon had never found out about me, I wouldn't be in this position. I wouldn't be learning to fight or going through training. I'd still be spending my days as a waitress at Crimson Oaks, saving up every penny so that I could build a future for myself. A future where I wouldn't have to think about the fact that my biological father had seen nothing wrong with the idea of using me as a bartering chip to get what he wanted.
Attempting to control myself as I felt anger pulsing through me, I stepped up to the window that overlooked the grounds. Though the sun was shining, there was no ignoring the strong gusts of wind that whistled against the glass, casting a parallel from the chaos inside my head. It was harsh, causing the trees to do a powerful dance as the leaves hung onto the branches for dear life. Their movement was what I focused on to calm my breathing, as crazy as it seemed, but the constant back and forth motion was rhythmic in a peculiar way.
The time passed quickly, and before long I could hear a slew of footsteps passing by my room. As I moved to sit at the top of my bed, each set of footsteps caused a rush of tension to flow through my veins, my thoughts momentarily put on hold as I worried that someone would knock on my door.
I didn't have the strength to deal with questions, much less the desire to hold a conversation with someone, and as the minutes ticked by and my door was left well enough alone, I began to slowly allow my body to relax into the comfort my bed offered. With the stress of the previous night hovering over my head, as well as the eventful day, I couldn't be bothered to leave the room to eat. My mind was shutting down, and just as the sun began to descend behind the trees outside, my eyes fluttered shut.
Occasionally throughout the night I jerked awake – my dreams a compilation of circumstances that would've had the ability to come to fruition if the attack against me on my birthday had been successful. The images that flashed through my head made for a less than peaceful night. Each time I awoke, I wavered in a state between awareness and slumber, and with exhaustion pumping through me, I had no willpower to fight against it before I fell back asleep.
That was, until I was startled awake for the fifth time. The morning was on the horizon, and as the sun rays cast a harsh glare through the window and into the room, I sighed, knowing it wouldn't do much good to try and fall back asleep for another time.
Forcing myself up and out of the bed, I headed into the bathroom. After jumping in the shower and rinsing off the remaining layer of sweat that had sheened to my skin, I pulled on a fresh set of clothes, hoping that today would be a better day.
It was early, and as my stomach growled with hunger, I knew there was no way to avoid the crowd of early risers. I could hear the footsteps of a handful of people coming back from overnight assignments or getting started with their day, and as I stepped into the hallway, I knew I was consciously leaving the sanctuary of my room behind.
I found myself holding my breath every time I turned a corner, hoping that I wouldn't run into anyone I was trying to avoid. Luck seemed to be on my side as I entered the Grand Hall to see no one I immediately recognized before making my way towards the food counter.
As my worries began to subside and I allowed my mind to relax, I piled my tray with a bowl of oatmeal, a few pieces of toast, and a much-needed cup of coffee. Just as I turned to find a spot to sit however, I was cut off when someone stepped in my path.
"Aspen."
My shoulders tensed at Kira's voice, though with no desire to deal with her in that moment, my grip on my tray tightened as I stepped swiftly to the side, trying to push passed her. It was no use however, as she reached out to grab my arm lightly, attempting to keep my attention.
"Aspen, please – "
I turned my head sideways to meet her pleading gaze. "Look, I seriously don't want to listen to what you have to say right now," I said, pulling my arm from her grip and continuing to walk away from her.
Though I didn't make it far.
Before my gaze had completely returned forward, I was stopped yet again as I bumped into someone, teetering slightly and flinching backwards as a stream of hot liquid seeped into my clothing. I was able to regain my balance, but as I looked down at the tray in my hands with wide eyes, I saw that it was my own drink that had emptied onto me.
I felt my eyes tighten as they narrowed, glancing upwards to see Beckett standing in front of me – a mixture of surprise and anger filling his features. The surprise I understood, but the anger, that was reserved for me.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I seethed through clenched teeth.
His features tightened as he quirked an eyebrow. "If you think you can afford to blow off a training session," he started, his voice low enough so only Kira and I could hear, "you might want to work on paying attention to your surroundings."
It hadn't even crossed my mind the previous night that I'd stood him up for a training session he'd graciously offered. With everything that had happened in the forty-eight hours since, it'd been overshadowed.
My mistake was also far from my mind as my anger got away from me. Without much thought, I dropped my tray onto the counter closest to me, picked up my bowl of oatmeal, and raised it up before dumping the contents over Beckett's head.
The lines of anger in his features disappeared momentarily, replaced with bafflement and shock, though they reappeared after a few seconds had passed. His eyes narrowed and I noticed his jaw tick with annoyance.
"What was that for?" he asked roughly.
I didn't have an answer for him. I'd done it because, in the moment, it made me feel better to have an outlet for the emotions boiling inside of me. I didn't consider the fact that we stood at the front of the Grand Hall, and that, in response to our commotion, everyone's gazes turned our way.
The clinking of cutlery ceased, and before I could grasp onto what was happening, I felt a sticky substance splatter against my arm as an all-out food fight ensued around me. The room of professional agents – whether they were trainees or veterans to this Division, all seemed to lose their sense of inhibition after watching Beckett and I go at it.
Bacon, eggs, waffles, fruit – all of it, and more, went flying across the room, and in a rush to try and get out of the room unscathed, several agents fled from the Hall, bumping into me as they went. I was too shocked to do anything but watch the chaotic spectacle around me with wide eyes.
"Enough!"
Beckett's voice cut through the crowd sharply, and while the ceasefire was immediate, a group of younger agents – who didn't look much older than eighteen – looked to him with smug looks on their faces.
"Why start something you don't intend on finishing?" one of them asked, quirking an eyebrow challengingly.
"I would also like to know the answer to that," Catherine said, her voice echoing off the walls as she stepped into the room.
My posture stiffened as I – still standing next to Beckett – made eye contact with her as she waited for an answer. Any amusement and mirth that remained in the room was quickly shaken away as the silence dragged on. Catherine's gaze shifted as she scanned over the rest of the agents in the room. "I advise you all to head off and start your training for today, that is, if you don't want to be stuck cleaning up this mess."
I knew there was no sense in trying to slip out undetected, as she'd already pinned both Beckett and I as the ones responsible, but the message seemed to sink in for most others. There was a scramble as the Grand Hall emptied, and within a few moments, the only ones left standing alongside the food-stained tables were Kira, Beckett, and I.
"Ms. St. James," Catherine said, regarding Kira, "I suggest you head to the lab, unless you'd like to share the blame for this mess."
I didn't turn around to watch the emotions flash over Kira's features, but I heard a low sigh leave her lips before she moved passed me, her gaze dropped as she headed for the door.
"Now, you two, follow me."
Catherine said nothing more before turning on her heel and walking away. Beckett wasted no time in following her orders, though seemingly begrudgingly, while I stayed back a moment. Gulping down my fears and anger, I put one foot in front of the other, catching up with Beckett and falling into stride with him.
"This is all your fault," I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear me.
"Not likely."
His words were rough, and as we followed Catherine through the halls and towards her office, nothing more was said. Instead, the anticipation over what would happen began to grow. How would she react? Would there be a punishment, and if so, how bad would it be?
I was thankful for the worries that circled my mind however, as it delayed the memory from just a few nights ago resurfacing – the last time I'd made my way through these halls and trekked up the narrow stairwell. As we stepped into her office, the scene from that night flashed in my head, but if I hadn't experienced it first-hand, I never would've guessed that something had gone down. Everything appeared to be in order and as I glanced towards the wall which Catherine had shot, I realized that a painting now hung over the spot where the bullet had hit.
"So," Catherine started, my attention moving to her as she took a seat at her desk, "do either of you want to explain what happened?"
I didn't want to be the one to admit that my temper and emotions had got the best of me, but as I kept quiet, so did Beckett. Sighing, I resolved to the fact that I'd have to tell the truth, but before I could get the first word out, Beckett interjected.
"It was my fault," he admitted, causing my eyes to whip towards him with shock. "I wasn't paying attention when I bumped into Aspen and her breakfast ended up going everywhere. Others must've assumed I'd done it on purpose." He turned towards me as he trailed off, sending me a pointed look not to oppose the lie that slipped through his lips.
Turning back to face Catherine, I masked my surprise, though by the way she quirked her eyebrow and flicked her gaze between the two of us, I could tell that she didn't necessarily believe him.
"So you're saying that this was all a big misunderstanding?"
Beckett nodded, standing tall with his hands behind his back. "Yes."
She glanced to me once more, and while I nodded in agreement, I said nothing in response.
"Even if that may be," she started with authority, "I can't let this behaviour slide. If your accident somehow instigated the fight, I'm sorry, but that means that a large amount of the responsibility falls on your shoulders. I want you two to spend the day cleaning the Grand Hall." A small weight lifted off my chest, knowing that the punishment wasn't as severe as it could've been – though my relief came a moment too soon. "And tonight, I expect to see the both of you bunking outside, serving as an example to some of the other agents that these types of things will not be tolerated within this Division."
"Understood."
I blinked, thrown aback by the seemingly old-fashioned punishment, but noting the way that Beckett agreed so easily, I assumed it wasn't as bad as it could've been. "Understood," I repeated a few moments later, my voice holding less conviction than Beckett's had.
"Then you're both free to go."
On that cue I turned and headed for the door, feeling Catherine's gaze on my back, and when I didn't hear Beckett's footsteps following, I swung the door closed behind me.
----------
"Is this what punishments are like around here?"
Hearing my words above the crackling of the fire, Beckett's gaze shifted towards me. "No," he said, "they're usually worse."
Now that was something I found hard to believe, though I was sure if I put the effort in, I would be able to think of worse things an agent could be tasked with.
The two of us had spent the day cleaning the Grand Hall from top to bottom, working around the agents that came in to eat and relax in between training sessions. It seemed as though every time we thought we'd finished, we noticed a spot on the ceiling or a new mess that had been made. The frustration built and exhaustion set in as the day dragged on, and once we were finally done, all I wanted to do was go back to my room and fall into my bed.
I couldn't do that however.
Beckett made quick work of directing me towards the storage closet where the Division stored their overnight equipment, pulling out a pile of blankets before leading me outside as the stars began to appear in the sky above. The weather was somewhat cooperative – giving us a clear night with no rain, however, the light chill that the wind carried was not so welcomed.
My surprise was evident when Beckett dropped his supplies next to one of the small barns situated on the back grounds, pulling at the door to reveal stacks of firewood. His skills were efficient in forming the base for a fire, and though I tried to help, I truly did nothing more than pass off logs and stoke the flames with kindling until they were tall enough to stand on their own.
Now, with the long, grueling hours behind us, the both of us lay on opposite sides of the fire, trying to find comfort on the uneven ground. A task that seemed impossible with nothing more than a few blankets in our disposal. Instead, I gave up trying and let my eyes scan over the star covered sky.
"Why did you take the fall for me?"
It was a question that'd been bothering me all day. He'd told Catherine that he'd bumped into me – which was true, but he had left out the aftermath that had truly initiated the food fight.
I heard Beckett shift underneath his blankets, and only when the rustling stopped did I shift my gaze from the stars above to him. "It wasn't that big of deal."
"That doesn't answer my question," I pointed out.
"Honestly, I was ticked off that I stayed up waiting for you last night in the training barn just for you to not show," he admitted. "I'd intended to confront you this morning, and when I bumped into you, I thought for a moment that you deserved it. When it set you off though, I realized you must've had something else on your mind."
The words were stab to my chest, knowing that I no doubt had let my emotions get the best of me. He hadn't done anything wrong or out of character, but my animosity towards Kira, Catherine, and Joe had been directed towards him. "And you're not going to ask what that was?"
He rolled back over, throwing me for a loop as he appeared to be mildly uninterested. "Not unless you want to tell me."
I didn't reply right away, letting silence sit between us, but it didn't take long for me to make a decision. I needed to get it off my chest – and if Beckett would listen, then I'd take advantage of the opportunity.
"It started the night of the alarm," I started, my voice vulnerable and just loud enough for Beckett to hear. "I was outside in the crowd when I noticed that everyone was shooting skeptical looks my way; as though I was at fault. It didn't make sense to me, but then Finn and Kira explained Catherine's past to me."
"You know, they likely aren't privy to anything more than the rumours that've been circulating since she was named Head of the Division," he cut in, letting me know he knew exactly what I was referring to.
I nodded. "Yeah, but I had to find out for myself. I made my way up to her office and had a front-row seat to watch her holding the leader of the Gemini Clan at gun point." I know I'd promised not to disclose the fact that Damon had been here, but if I'd learned one thing about Beckett, it was that he liked to operate alone. I didn't think I'd have to worry about him letting that fact slip. "She let him go, wanting to keep me safe, but when I left that night, there was a part of me that thought the rumours about her might be true."
I paused, expecting Beckett to have questions. To either rebuff my words or put in his own two cents, but as the lull in conversation lingered between us, I realized he wasn't going to speak up.
"Then yesterday afternoon, Kira led me to the room I used for training. Joe was there, and I thought nothing of the lie-detector they wanted to hook me up to, as Joe explained it was a lesson on remaining calm. What I didn't expect was an ambush." I breathed in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "They hooked me up to the lie-detector, but also chained me to the chair before bringing Catherine in. They hadn't brought me there to train – they wanted me to confront my mom."
"So what happened?"
"She hooked herself up to the lie detector and had a reply for everything I asked, but that didn't mean I was ready to hear the answers."
"You know they work, right? The lie detectors. At least the ones that S.I.C.O use," he said. "So whatever Catherine told you, she was telling the truth."
"I know," I said, my voice wavering slightly. And that was part of the problem.
Beckett stayed quiet for a moment. "So are you mad that they were trying to help you, or mad because the only way they could get you to talk to Catherine was against your will?"
"Both," I replied confidently, before shaking my head as I second-guessed myself. "The latter..." I sighed. "I don't know."
"Maybe you should take some time to figure it out."
I couldn't find the words to reply, because I knew he was right. I couldn't continue to resent their actions, and I had to find a way to push past this and move forward.
a/n: so, unfortunately I've reverted to the mentality of barely writing while I'm on a university term, so this chapter is far overdue. It was a bit of a filler chapter with a few needed interactions and scenes mixed in, but I've had this food fight scene planned from the beginning. The next chapter is when the action and main plot line start up again, so get ready!
Also, I'll be at Wattcon in 2 weeks in Toronto and I'm so excited! Is anyone else going?