Chapter Text
"Omen, behind you !!"
Those were the three last words Omen heard before a stinging pain entered the depth of his dark flesh, sending alerts all through his veins and nerves to his brain. Ears ringing, the world becoming dizzy around him, he couldn't even hear the sound of his own scream abandoning his burning lungs. His call of pain went echoing on the walls surrounding him, trying to answer the whistle of the bullet which had managed to pierce its way through the wraith's skin, tearing through flesh and blood until it hit the organ, source of his tormented breathing. The wound was bursting with puffs of shadows trying to escape his watch, tearing him apart in the process. His clawed hands tried as hard as they could to reach the epicenter of the stinging pain burning him alive, as if it could stop everything, but his fingers barely gripped the metal sheets of his chestplate before they slipped. Not because of any blood loss, because the bullet didn't come out of his body on this side, it had only entered and settled its poison deep into him never to come out again. But because of the sudden fatigue crushing on his shoulders and forcing him on his knees, a nausea growing strong in his stomach, threatening to burn his throat with its aggressive acid. His breathing was fast, loud in his own ears, and cut with irregularities as the taste of iron made its way into his throat. He tried to hold on, hold on for his teammates, hold on for his own life, but his mind got lost in a haze too thick to keep his eyes open any longer, walls and floor becoming one as the world swayed around him. His blurred vision shut down, and with it, all of his body.
"What happened !?"
"I-I don't know, I just looked away for a second, I'm sorry !"
"Don't worry, little one, we'll handle this."
The flashes were short, voices around him echoing under his scalp as he could barely recognize them as being his friend's. Only the glimpse of vision offered by his half consciousness gave him the right to give himself up entirely. He could feel hands slipping under him, his inert body being lifted by someone, whose grunt indicated how heavy the task was. A whisper came to his ears, distant, reassuring, yet worried.
"I will not let you die on me, my shadow."
He felt other hands join the original pair, gripping on him, footsteps rapid on the ground, breathes short, panic rising around him as he was sinking back into the depths again.
-
Whispers were what troubled Omen's deep sleep. Bribs of conversations he couldn't hear enough to understand at first, but the more he emerged from the shadows, the clearer the accent of his friend became. One that wasn’t foreign to his own, the other, more raspy.
"Don't you think we can reach Sage ?"
"Too dangerous."
"His life is at stake, Cypher."
"Don't you think I've noticed that ? Oh, and what do you care." The spy sighed, as worried as the American scientist was but visibly irritated. "He is stabilized for now, is he not ? Don't tell me you're doubting our surgical skills now, mh ?"
He only earned a sigh in return, muffled behind a mask of her own. She was about to give a stinging answer when a low grunt cut them in their discussion. Omen's aching body seeked to move around to get up, but the stinging pain was still there, like a thousand needles piercing through his skin from the inside. The taste of blood was still imprinted in his throat, and a violent headache forced him to return lying on his side. Cypher and Viper's eyes met for an instant, both asking themselves the same question. As if their brain were running on the same train of thoughts, both of them nodded in agreement. If anyone were to welcome the wraith's back into the world, it would be the spy. The decision was easy to make, ever since their journey in Jakarta, Omen and Viper were struggling to get along, the bitter taste of lies messing between the two. And on the other hand, Cypher had always been the closest friend Omen could have, beside Sage. They had always get along, and the spy had the curious need to always look after the wraith. Perhaps an old habit he had imprinted on him after he recognized parts of himself in the controller's lost and quiet mind. Anyway, if anyone were to reassure the still unstable shadow, in Sage's absence, Cypher was the best choice. Maybe he didn't have the soft and kind voice of the healer, but the raspy rolling "r"s of his mother tongue had always eased the wraith's troubled mind, for some reason. And this wasn't counting the friendly chuckles and the cheerful tone he was always talking with, claiming the rare jokes that would get Omen to smile to, in his own inconspicuous way. So it felt like a huge relief to the wraith when he saw two familiar blue lenses, the hat man towering above him with his hands on his hips. Although Omen was surprised to see him without his signature beige coat, wearing only his black bodysuit, his mind didn't think of the detail as important enough to stick to it.
"Ah, hello little shadow ! Heavy sleeper, aren't you ?" His shoulders shrugged with the little chuckle following his words. How could he still be so cheerful after what Omen had been through, that, the ghost couldn't know. Yet, he'd rather have this as he woke up than the beeping sound of the infirmary's machine, or the many questions about how he was feeling. Of course, Cypher knew already that he was feeling like shit, there was no point asking. But still, the spy laid a camp chair next to the uncomfortable bed Omen was in, and he sat down next to him.
"I understand you might still feel a little off and tired, but don't worry, you are not dying yet !" Yet . And he still said it with a smile in his voice. "Viper and I are supervising you until-"
"Where am I...?" The wraith's voice was deeper than usual, broken and interrupted with a cough hurting his already painful chest. Strands of shadows twitched at the pain, but he still tried to look around him. His blurry vision and heavy headache didn't help him to recognize his surroundings at all.
"Somewhere safe, don't worry. I have my ways."
Cypher gently tapped the shadowy hands with his gloved one in an attempt to reassure him, and then leaned over to be able to whisper his next words without Viper hearing any of them.
"It is an old headquarters of mine. Lucky for you, I was smart enough to leave a few first aid kits behind !"
"And... the others ?"
Of course Omen would be worrying about the rest of the team before being concerned about his own health. Typical of him, as if he weren't as important as them. Nonsense to the spy.
"They are just fine. Neon is scouting the area with our nightmare lady, we fear we might be followed. Though they won't find us here, I can guarantee that."
He sounded mischievous, as if he were recalling things that had happened here before, things of which he was rather proud of. But Omen didn't have the strength to ask any more questions, the nausea already coming back to squeeze his stomach, and the edges of Cypher's silhouette becoming more blurry at every slow blink the wraith did. And there, the spy's warming voice became distant again, dying as Omen sank back into the dark.
"Rest well, little one..."
-
Omen didn't know how much time he had been drowning in his own shadows, the dark of the night not helping him catch the hours the rare times his eyes opened before he would fall back into slumber. Tortured by a slight fever and the stinging pain emanating from his wound, he didn't have the more resting night, but the last time he awakened, this time for good, it was because of the slight ray of sunshine landing right onto his face. It was warming him up, but also blinding him, as if it was made on purpose. But as he finally laid eyes around him, he noticed that the ray of warm light wasn't unique in the room. In fact, many little dots were scattered around him and on the ground, like a mosaic of sun piercing through the wall in front of him. It took him a few seconds to discern the contours of the speckled window, making the room dark if not for these tiny openings. He could have stayed wondering about this unfamiliar architecture for a little while longer, his mind still dizzy, if not for the distant yet loud singing echoing in the streets of an unknown town. A prayer . He quickly recognized the language to be Arabic, and there, the dots connected. They had been fighting in Rabbat, of course Cypher had a backup place in his hometown. And the window filtering the heat of the sun was the typical Mashrabiyya, allowing the resident of the home to observe through it without being seen in return. Why did it sound so... Cypher ? And why was the room so silent and empty, apart from the slow ticking of an old clock and the discreet buzzing of entangled electric wires ?
Omen started to worry about his teammates, it was abnormal for a whole team to desert the place, especially if they were hiding from someone. He gripped the camp bed's sides, almost piercing through the rough fabric with his sharp claws as a pungent pain ran through his whole chest, hitting Omen in the back of the head like a hammer. He growled, staying in a sitting position and waiting for the pain to slowly fade away, if it ever could, before he could move again, more slowly this time. He got up, his legs a bit weak and his steps uncertain as he started to walk, both because of his chest feeling heavy, and the world not being completely stable around him. He helped himself by holding the pieces of furniture, walls and door handles, pursuing a goal he didn't even know. He was just looking for a friendly face, someone that could reassure him, tell him that no one was in danger, not even thinking about his own state. He didn't know the place and, without even moving fast, he lost himself in the few rooms. He walked on thick colorful carpets, enhanced with vibrating patterns which could be found in tapestries, and the fabric of all the cushions, sofas, anything that could be decorated with it was. It was a little bit too much, for Omen's still slow mind and hurting eyes, to be attacked with so many details all around him. He didn't like being alone in places he didn't know, even though it was Cypher's. And with the worry added to it, it made his teammate's absence even worse.
But, in the silence of the corridor he was walking through, a quiet humming came past his ears. It was soft, pleasant even, and it stopped Omen right where he was, hand on the wall to help himself stand. The discreet singing was familiar, he had heard Cypher hum behind his mask very often, while working, or making his tea. Even sometimes on the battlefield, when he would set up his gear, or more rarely, to calm a fallen teammate in the waiting of a healer. It had always been a synonym of reassurance to the wraith, whose tortured mind had often been eased by the sweet singing before. He got so lost in the memories of those times that he didn't notice the hum getting closer, until the tip of a beige hat came out of the room he had been standing near, followed by the spy himself. Cypher’s whole body jumped, almost dropping his cup of tea and the pleasing hum stopped in a gasp as he let himself be surprised by the wraith. He had definitely not been expecting him to be standing here, him who was supposed to stay in his bed. As always, Omen was way too quiet to be caught by Cypher's nonetheless sharp senses.
"Geez, Omen!" He placed a hand on his heart after it had missed a beat and sighed. "What are you even doing here ?"
"Sorry... I couldn't find anyone."
Omen was obviously apologizing for the scare, but also because he regretted the calming humming. His three glowing slits observed the spy from top to bottom. He still wasn't wearing his coat, he looked even more thin without it, despite the muscles molded by the tight bodysuit. The belt of his high-waisted pants made his waist look even thinner...
"Ah, it's alright... I should have stayed with you." He was about to stupidly offer the wraith a cup of tea out of habit when his circled artificial eyes widened. "My god Omen, you're bleeding!"
The controller only seemed to realize it when Cypher pointed it, a thin stream of dark red blood running down his back, from his wound to his pants, until a bead dropped on the carpet floor. The pain had been hidden behind worry and the burning need to find his teammates, but now it came back hitting him even harder.
"I'm sorry..."
Of course, he was apologizing for the carpet more than for deserting his bed, and Cypher was barely believing him.
"Oh, Omen, you are not real. Come here dear, don't mind the stupid carpet."
He tugged Omen's arm around his shoulder to help carry him back to the room he should have stayed in in the first place. They went through the corridor again, to the room filled with details, between old pieces of furniture and dusty computers which had been powered on and displaying a flood of information. Omen didn't stare at it for a long time, busy with the pain aching his body once again, until he sat down on the camp bed.
"Stay still." Cypher went around the bed to have a look at Omen's back. The bandages they had put over the wound was red with blood, pearling with more fluid than it should. Red streams had escaped the wound, tainting the metal of his armor in the way. "Ah, fuck this."
Hearing Cypher curse wasn't an usual thing, it even alerted Omen a little bit on his condition, if the headache wasn't enough yet. The spy abandoned his side to rummage in the pile of bandages, scissors, seringues and other unwelcoming stuff scattered across the old wooden desk. Many first aid kits had been opened, and Omen only noticed now the bin filled with bloody tissues under the table. Red cottons and opened plastic boxes emptied of their tools which had probably saved Omen's life.
The wraith's grip hardened on the thin sheet of his makeshift bed, standing straight becoming an impossible task as his chest was burning from the inside. Now, he could feel the hot blood pour out of his wound to roll on his cold skin, barely protected with his usual own bandages holding his shadows together. The sensation itself was making Omen's head spin, as he knew the amount of blood loss wasn't normal.
"Cypher..."
His voice was beginning to get lost in rumbles, feeling himself drowning into depths again.
"I'm right here, I'm right here!"
The spy rushed to him after he found what he was looking for, an aluminum tablet of pills Omen recognized as painkillers. He also had a thick tissue in his hand that he immediately pressed onto the wound as soon as he arrived behind the wraith in hope of stopping the blood loss, or at least reducing it to allow him further treatments.
"Take two of those, and breathe, dear."
Omen nodded, piercing through the thin sheet of aluminum with the tip of his claw and swallowed both pills with the last bit of consciousness left in his body. He felt Cypher's gloved hand settling on his hip, warmth piercing through the leather like some kind of salvation to the wraith's skin getting colder. The other hand was still pressing the fabric on his wound, fabric soon sweating with blood itself.
"Shit, of course Viper had to go fetch the others!" Cypher noticed the worry in his own voice, and carefully chased it from the rest of his sentence to not make his friend panic any more. "It's okay, it won't be my first time doing this anyway, mh ?"
He was talking to himself, Omen non responding as he was already trying to contain the clouds of shadow twitching around him, strands of darkness entangling with Cypher's fingers as if they were guilty of the pain tormenting their host. Growls of pain were the only thing escaping his throat, and for a moment, Cypher didn't know if he was welcomed at his side anymore. But he wouldn't let him down, that, he never did.
The spy extended his arms to grab the needle Viper had used a few hours ago to close the wound, a thin string still attached to it. He removed the cotton fabric from the wound, then the soaked bandages, letting clear sight to the deep black wound, layers of flesh torn by the bullet that had entered, and had been extracted later. Him and Viper weren't doctors, and they surely didn't make the clearest surgery, but they had tried their best not to make it worse. Although, now, the stitches were cut, and the blood sipping, dark red streams running down the pink walls of flesh to fall into a cascade along the dark skin, shadowing its glowing blue stripes.
"Breathe, darling, breathe."
He knew it was much easier to ask than to do, especially since his lung had been hit, but it was more a matter of warning him of the incoming pain than anything else.
"And don't forget, I've got you. No matter what."
It didn't feel reassuring at all to the wraith who had no idea what was going on behind his back, his mind so tortured with the pain it was becoming only an instinct. Claws already deep in the sheets, they ended up piercing through it as a stinging pain was added to the other, making him screech and all his body tense in an instant. He could hear the apologies being repeated in his back as the stings didn't stop, piercing through his skin again and again, until it was too much for Omen to bear. His brain shut down, unable to even say a word to warn the working hands behind him, and his body fell heavily on the bed as his glowing slits closed.
-
"I told you to keep an eye on him, for god's sake, Cypher!" The almost screaming of a familiar feminine voice came ringing into Omen's ears.
"Oh, and now it is my fault. Right." He could hear the heavy heels of Cypher's boots going away, to the back of the room, and Omen's eyes barely opened to the sight of his silhouette sitting near the window, his contours drawn by the lights. "I was only fixing the communication lines, and you, what progress have you made, mh ?" His voice was bitter, filled with the venom Viper tried to spit into his mouth ever since she came back.
"What progress ? I-" She cut herself, barely believing she was having this conversation. It was rare to argue with the spy, much more than with the hot blooded duelists. But she knew Cypher to be close with Omen, and perhaps he was supportive of him, blaming her for the truth she had kept to herself, which was rather bold given the man’s own hidden secrets.
A sigh accompanied her footsteps as she walked towards the door. "Call me if anything happens again. I will take care of the girls, they're wounded too."
Cypher could barely believe she had said that. Was she blaming him for being focusing on Omen's recovery, after he had his coat red with his blood when he had carried him here ? His hands were still sticky with the rest of hemoglobin on his fingers, despite how much he had tried to wash his gloves after the unexpected surgery he had to perform. And she was still blaming him ? A sigh sipped through his lips as he let his shoulders fall down, looking at the ignorant people in the streets through the holes of the window, like he had spent hours doing in his youth. He had always been an observer, watching until he would find the perfect prey. He was a hunter, hidden behind screens and folds, but never a doctor. He had never specialized in saving people, only controlling them to better kill them.
"Cypher...?"
The low mumble made him flinch, instantly forgetting about the argument. Omen was awake! Finally! He rose from the edge of the window and rushed to the controller.
"I'm starting to think that you enjoy seeing my face when you wake up, little shadow !" He didn't wait for any response and grabbed the tablet of painkillers sitting on the desk behind him to take a pill out. "Here, have this, dear."
He seemed to hesitate as to where exactly he had to make the pill enter Omen's body, but thankfully, a tired clawed hand took it out of his fingers, and the pill disappeared in the middle stripe of his face.
"Thank you..."
"No worries." Cypher huffed. "This time. I really need you to stick to your bed. I'm sadly not as skilled as Sage, your recovery will take time."
Omen slowly nodded, this time well decided not to open his wound again after the pain he had been through. He knew himself to be lucky enough so far, but luck always runs out after some time.
"I heard Viper..."
Cypher's lenses grew a little bit wider, and he briefly looked at the door through which Viper left.
"Oh... That was nothing, don't mind that. We are all a little bit shaken, you know. We feared for you." His eyes locked onto the controller once again. "Don't apologize for it." Omen who was already about to let the words escape his mouth got cut short. The spy knew him too well after the many years of spending time together in the late hours of nights.
"She blames you..."
Cypher gestured in the air with a hand, like he was trying to fade away the thought he considered unimportant.
"Ah, only the worry speaking, little shadow. There is no one to blame, only the coward who shot you in your back."
"And what of Fade and Neon ?"
The spy ended up sitting down next to the wraith, tingling with the magnet in the palm of his hand to get his needy fingers busy.
"A few scratches, they made it back home safely. But they saw the goons in the streets, we cannot go outside for now. It will give you some time to heal, as long as they don't find us." He prevented the worry from growing inside Omen's chest by continuing. "Which they won't. They have never found me here."
"Then why did you leave ?" The question was unexpected, and Cypher stayed silent for a second.
"I have learnt to leave before it's too late." His tone sounded less cheerful all of a sudden, and it almost made Omen regret asking. He was aware of the spy's past, or at least a little bit of it. He had seen his dossier, just like everyone else. "Anyway, I have to leave you under Viper's supervision for a moment, I need to head out."
Omen's blue slits twitched with surprise.
"But you just said..."
"The "we" was meant for you four. Don't worry, I perfectly know my ways around my own city. I have been a fugitive for as long as I can remember !" His cheerful tone was back as an usual chuckle came, shaking his shoulders once again. "And we will need more than old rags to help your wound heal."
"What if they find you ?" Omen wasn't particularly eager at the idea of Cypher putting himself in danger for him, despite the fact that he couldn't deny his point. He was worried he couldn't do anything to help if he were in a difficult situation.
"Ah, you underestimate me, little shadow ! To think I, a child of Rabbat, might be caught by brainless foreigners in my own streets ? Don't insult me !" His enthusiasm and confidence seemed to stop the storm of questions in Omen's head for a moment, despite the worry still sticking to his guts. It wasn't rational, of course Cypher would manage to escape them, he was right. But still, he had a particular place in the wraith's heart, and this spot wasn't ready to be hollowed.
"Trust me, the only one in trouble here will be you, when you will have to deal with Viper watching over you." Omen sighed at the thought. He was trying his best not to be angry at her, for he knew she didn't blame him for his past self attempting the worst, but he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at her side now. He let his head rest on the pillow under him and stared at the ceiling, thoughtful.
"Stay safe out there."
"Of course, always." Blue lenses squinted with what Omen could guess was a smile under the mask, and he headed towards the door. But before he could go too far, clawed fingers put their grasp around his thin wrist.
"And, Cypher... Thank you."
The sentinel was a little bit surprised at the way he was receiving the thanks, but he guessed it was for the help he had brought since everything went wrong.
"No need, dear."
The wrist brushed out of Omen's light grip, and after a few seconds, the familiar steps of the Moroccan agent were replaced with heels he had begin to despise.
-
It was much hotter outside, the heat of the few rays of sunshine making it through the clothes hanging between windows, turning the air dry around Cypher. He was thankful for the brilliant minds who designed the narrow streets to deny any access to the sun, otherwise the scorching heat of early summer days would have burnt his skin. Though he was used to it, and if he didn't have his signature beige coat on, still too stained with blood to be worn anywhere, he instead had a thin cover of beige linen around his head and shoulders. Only his blue lenses could draw attention to him, but he couldn't get himself to remove his mask for so little. Instead, he was taking cover in the darker streets when he felt like he was too close to the goons searching for them, pretending to be interested in whatever product the merchants were selling. So far, it was working. And as he knew where he was heading to, he could take the shortcuts only his pairs and he could know about for most of the route. He ended up in front of an old abandoned hospital of three floors. It was a small one for the neighborhood, which he had visited many times during his clumsy childhood. But since Kingdom's arrival in the city to mine radianite, many places have been deserted. He sneaked in through one of the broken windows freed of wooden planks to block the way. Many must have gone through there before, and he got confirmation when he saw the many sprays of paint on the walls. Words in Arabic, drawings, anything that had been through their minds at the moment they had been holding their spray paint. But Cypher didn't waste his time with this and directly headed to the second floor, towards an infirmary he hadn't come back to in years. It almost brought memories of when his mother used to facepalm in those corridors when the eight years old Amir was explaining to the ladies how he ended up with an ankle sprain for the third week in a row, because of his friend trapping him with fishing lines. Perhaps it was where he had found the idea of his own tripwires.
Despite the smile it put on his face to recall the good times, he quickly faded them away to focus on his task. He struggled a few minutes before finding the infirmary, and with it, the cabinets full with old material, meds and bandages. Everything was still in bottles or covered with layers of plastic protecting them. It might be a few years old, but it would do just fine. He snatched what he could, tossing everything into the shoulder bag he had brought along with him. He was busy gathering the goods, but the distant crackling of a boot walking over broken glass wasn't missed by his experienced and sharp hearing. His body froze for a second, only for him to turn around in an instant, drawing his weapon out of his belt at the speed of light. He had barely just pressed the trigger that the body of a foreign soldier fell heavily on the ground, meters away in the corridor that led to the room. Shit , he had been followed. Thank god he still had his good reflexes to save him.
He suddenly gasped as something striked heavily at the back of his head, and he didn't even have time to react or even think before his eyes shut and his body fell to the ground.
That
, wasn't something he had seen coming.