Just Sark.

“So what do you think, doc? Is my head okay?”

“Unfortunately, Regina, you’re perfectly normal. Everything sounds healthy and boring.” Nasirah looked up from her writing and grinned at the mechanic. “You haven’t changed much in… two days.”

“Hey, I wanted to make sure. The fumes can get to you some days, man.” Regina jumped up from the couch and stretched, and peered out Nasirah’s office window. Nasirah stood up and together they walked to her door. It was getting late in the afternoon, the clouds taking on a purple hue as the sky melted into warm orange. With the only lamp on Nasirah’s desk, the natural light flooded her office, sparing only the shadows in darkest corners. 

“Aw dang, I still have to fix up Jay’s motorcycle. It’s not even broken. I just like touching it, it’s really pretty beautiful. Who do you have coming in next?” Regina asked as she wrapped up Nasirah in one of her customary ‘good-bye’ hugs. She smelled of the garage she loved to work in, of the motor oil, of weed, of love and enthusiasm. It was a scent that had come to comfort Nasirah as well as jar her memory of her brothers— It was the tiny, strong sensory experience and the fact Regina had no idea how much it affected Nasirah that made her love the mechanic more and more.

“Sark. He should be coming now, actually.”

“Ooh. So he probably won’t notice if I play with his doggies a bit while you’re keeping him busy, right? Thanks, Nasi!” And she was gone before Nasirah could explain Sark could look over the security footage to see Regina distracting his huge, menacing guard dogs with cuddles and kibbles. 

Nasirah retreated back into her office. The sun was setting now. The couch was askew from Regina reclining and rolling around in it and she set about facing it back straight towards window. People often relaxed when they had things to look at and ended up rambling on about things they didn’t intend to. They opened up more once they forget a professional was watching them and writing about them (She often shared her notes with them at the end of the session or at their request- It helped them to get an objective, clinical perspective), arguably the most difficult part of the process. They did not ask Nasirah any questions about herself unless they were being dodgy or evasive about her questions. It was, perhaps, better that way. No one wanted to know personal details about a psychiatrist. They especially didn’t want to know their psychiatrist was just as troubled as they were.

Numerous computer screens flicked between multiple camera angles, showing the members of SFB-1 winding down for the day, ignoring the shadows lengthening outside the building. Glancing at the analogue display in the corner he noted the time, before spinning around in his chair and standing, fluidly snatching his jacket off the desk in front of him in the process. Motioning to Thor, the dog lept up from where he had been reclining on Sark's bed and immediately positioned himself at the man's side, walking with him out of the door.

It had been a few weeks since his last talk with Nasirah, and he found himself more compelled than usual to attend a session. Not least because Nasi was one of the only people he felt he could speak to freely without judgement - she listened to everything he had to say without ridicule, and the sessions allowed for guaranteed privacy, whereas normally they would be surrounded by at least one other member of Rep and Red.

She was also one of the only people who knew about his nightmares - knew how he stayed awake for nights on end to avoid the visions that plagued his dreams. The nightmares that had recently returned with a vengeance - whether a reaction to the changes happening and the threats they potentially posed, or just his mind giving him the middle finger - meaning he was throwing himself into his work, making sure the base was as secure as it could be. 

Reaching Nasirah's floor in good time, he strode down the corridor before coming to a stop outside her office, knocking lightly on the door before pushing it gently and stepping inside. Spotting Nasirah immediately he smiled warmly in her direction. "Nasi," he greeted, closing the door behind him. After a brief pause he looked down to Thor who was sitting next to him, the twitching of the tail betraying the dog's wishes. Glancing up at Nasi he sent her a wry smile, before returning his attention to the canine, and motioning with his hand. "Go on then," he spoke - barely getting the words out before the dog bounded across the room towards Nasirah, tail wagging enthusiastically as he nuzzled her hand for affection. 

A set of footsteps echoing down the hall announced the arrival of another person; as they stepped through the door, Sark knew he had been right in his assumption. Not many of the people who worked in this building tended to wear high heeled shoes. Watching Marge enter the room with thinly-veiled mistrust, he stood back, crossing his arms over his chest. Barely resisting the urge to tell her to keep her hands off of his dog (the only reason he allowed them in the pleasure house after what she did to Sif was because the cameras were useful for keeping an eye on things), he ignored her, just as she ignored him.

As Yamada and Marge were exchanging pleasantries, Sark looked over at the mess of paper and gum in Nasirah's hands, mentally cringing at the state of the receipts. It looked like someone had put them together that way on purpose - he could pick out delicate fixtures and joints entwining the popsicle sticks together that looked suspiciously like something Regina would come up with. As if on cue, the girl appeared through a doorway, slice of pizza in her hand. As she stumbled through an apology he looked on amused, before moving and taking one of the empty seats Nasirah had kicked out - making sure he was seated next to her and opposite Yamada, with no other seats on his other side. Fenrir followed closely on his heels and sat obediently down in the empty space, ears twitching at the conversation going on around him.

Is the musical you’re thinking of Annie? It’s Annie, isn’t it. There are no Olivers in Annie. BUT PLEASE. SING FOR ME.

Ohh, you’re close. Very close. In fact, I think Annie suits you better than Oliver, wouldn’t you say? I’ll have to get Nasi’s opinion on that one. Maybe it can be your new nickname. 

Only if you’re good.

One major flaw in this plan - R&R isn't going to fall through, not if I can help it. And unfortunately, Annie, I think I'll have to pass. Wouldn't want to be shown up by your fabulousness. 

Sark hated it.

In the days leading up to the new team's arrival he'd grown more and more withdrawn, eventually only leaving his room for food or patrols. The people at the heart of the base he'd spent years getting to know - they were his family, the ones who kept him from losing himself in his own mind - but these transfers were unknown. And unknown was a threat. 

Sitting in front of his bank of computers, his eyes flickered over each screen in turn, watching the group's progress as Nasi lead them through the compound towards the upper floors, where the bedrooms were situated. The camera attached to Fenrir's collar allowed him an uninterrupted feed, the conversation filtering through his speakers crystal clear. 

He observed as two of the group broke away from the rest, leaving Nasi alone with the one remaining member. It was then that Fenrir grew restless, and almost instantly Sark was on his feet, running a practiced hand over the side that held his weapon and checking that it was in place, hidden in a holster underneath his military jacket. Pausing in his stride only to give Thor a reassuring pat on the head, Sark left his room, the door closing behind him with a mechanical hiss.

It took him no time at all to reach the floor Nasi and her guest were currently occupying - the inner walkways and stairwells were seared into his memory, his feet having travelled along them numerous times before. Rounding the corner, he immediately took in the situation, calling out to the canine who was still tugging against Nasirah's grip. 

"Fenrir."

A warning. The dog promptly stopped and sat back on its haunches, every muscle tense and poised for action. Sark crossed the distance remaining between himself and the small group, coming to a halt behind Nasirah. Switching his attention to the unfamiliar face, his eyes quickly took in as much detail as they could, before levelling out into a hard stare.