he never tries to kill you?

Happy Munday!

tagged by: @proudcf

Nobody was talking about fSociety anymore, and Elliot was over the goddamn moon about that. Robot visibly m1ssed the glory days whenever anything about the Hack being undone cropped up, but he was shutting up about it, mostly. Which had been weird. He’d only gotten pissed off a handful of times this past week and Elliot hadn’t even woken up to anything substantial broken. Just a few coffee mugs, shit like that. And he didn’t drink coffee, anyway.

He had yet to hear even radio static from the Dark Army. Darlene had seen better days. She’d been coming over to his house almost every day. Elliot was fixing desktop computer towers every moment he had for this little company right at the edge of town. People who had their shit fried by malware and their data stolen by people like him. Sometimes there wasn’t much to salvage. Sometimes all he needed to do was replace a fan or two. But it was work he could do from home. They didn’t make him dress any different when he dropped the stuff by or picked it up. They didn’t even really talk to him much. He could work from home.

It was perfect, so far. Robot usually sat beside him and told him stuff he already knew, and got snippy when Elliot said as much. But they were working together. Boring as the work was.

And all the while on the backburner, Elliot was concocting a plan to wholly incapacitate the goddamn 1%.

Whole hand smacking against his door, not a fist. One, two, three. Elliot looked up from his wiring where he was sitting on the floor, a tiny, blue, turn-to-activate flashlight in his mouth.

Was he being arrested again?

ASAC? Oh, shit, that’s right. The other guy got hewn to pieces.

Elliot took his flashlight out of his mouth. Rotated it to off.

“ DON’T ANSWER THAT. ” Robot said, getting to his feet as Elliot did. “ SHE’S AN OPERATIVE, NOW. SHE’S JUST A MOLE LIKE THAT OTHER SCUZBAG WAS. ”

“ You don’t know that. She could be fighting them. ”

“ OR SHE COULD BE PLAYING INTO THEIR EVERY GODDAMN WHIM. ”

At least they knew how to talk quietly between themselves. In Elliot’s head or whatever.

“ OH PLEASE, KICK THE DOOR IN, ” Robot whined, leaning against the wall beside the front door and crossing his arms. “ I’VE BEEN DYING FOR SOME FUCKING VICISSITUDE. ”

Elliot pulled his hood down off his head and fixed his hair as he opened the door.

“ Dom, ” he said. “ What’re you doing here? ” He didn’t stand aside. Robot turned to stand behind his shoulder and watch her, too.  

Dom’s eyebrow quirked upward. Dom, huh? “We’re not on a first name basis, Mr. Alderson.” She reminded him. Although, she had to admit it was nice to get a break from hearing a stammered A-Agent DiPierro, please come in! She shifted her weight onto her left foot. Her eyes made a quick scan of what she could see of the apartment from where she stood. 

Dom didn’t expect to see anything too damning from a simple glance. Elliott wasn’t going to have a big screen somewhere with the words I’M STILL IN THE DARK ARMY’S SYSTEMS! flashing in different bright neon colors.  Dom turned at her waist, looking behind her, then facing Elliott again. “You live in a shitty neighborhood, Mr. Alderson. Hope you know that. I wouldn’t want someone listening in who shouldn’t.”

 “Here’s what’s going to happen.” 

She met Elliot’s gaze as best as she could. Dom had been trained in maintaining eye contact, it was easy for her, but looking into Elliott’s eyes for too long made her feel like a peeping Tom waiting to watch someone strip. Like she was seeing so much but also seeing so little.  From what she could tell, he always seemed so lost in his own thoughts. Or battling them. Whichever, it wasn’t especially pertinent right now.

 “You are going to invite me inside. I will walk inside and you will close the door behind me like the gentleman I just know you are.” 

She took a single step closer to him, closing whatever distance that was left between the two, ignoring the bounds of the imaginary socially accepted circles of personal space people separated themselves with. In short, she was in his face. “Then we will talk, in private about some of the promises you’ve made and whether or not you’ve been keeping them.” 

The night was still young but Dom was already pretty wasted. Who could she blame for that? The Dark Army? Darlene? Why was she thinking about Darlene? Fuck. If only Alexa was around, maybe Dom could ask her. Too bad she threw that useless tube of plastic out when the general garbage collectors ended their strike. She was rotting in some landfill by now. Not unlike Santiago’s body. 

Dom needed more to drink. She made her way to the bar and took a seat. “Anything.” She asked of the bartender. “Literally anything, just make it on the rocks. Thanks, hon.” The bartender didn’t look too happy about being call hon, but what did he expect Dom to do about it? Her eyes, clouded from the liquor, scrolled through the crowd.

She didn’t have time to make friends with the people who had replaced her last... what would she call that? Squad? Group of coworkers all gunned down in a blink of an eye? Yeah, that. Their replacements were just faces and names as far as Dom was concerned. Jimmy had a kid with cerebral palsy and Tasha had three kids, all autistic, but Tasha wasn’t weird about it, thank God -

Dom shook her head, blinking away the information she absorbed from these people like some kind of dirty sponge. They were just faces and nameplates, that was what she needed to tell herself. If she started caring if they lived or died it would only be a matter of time before they died. So was the life of Dominique Dipierro. 

The bartender slid Dom her drink. “Finally!” She exclaimed. “it’s about time.” Speaking of, she heard the beep of a watch and turned her head to meet the direction it came from. “Minister Zhang?” Laughter bubbled up and out of her throat. “Long time no see. Hope you’re enjoying the festivities.”

“I don’t have a clock room to show you, sorry to disappoint.” Or a fake sister to lie about, for that matter. “How’s your sister?”

As the world at large became more optimistic, Dom grew less so. She was a shell of her former self and damn, did she feel like one. At least the crying had stopped. “I’m sorry, Jamie,” despite herself, Dom still tried to perform what she’d lost and laughed into her phone. “You want a what for Christmas?” She listened to him repeat himself as she walked the streets of Chinatown. He spoke loud and clear, as much as a four year old could anyway.

 He wanted a Tyrell Wellick action figure. Of course those existed. Jamie quickly stipulated, before Dom could respond, that the action figure had to be an exclusive and authentic E Corp figure. He wouldn’t settle for anything else. “I... will see what Santa can do.” She didn’t make any promises.

 She didn’t want to buy him a fucking Tyrell Wellick poseable action figure. She didn’t care that it had recorded Swedish catchphrases. If she saw one in the streets, she’d take a lighter to it and burn it like the evil it was. That being said, Dom was definitely going to buy it for little Jamie. This Dark Army gig was what was keeping her family alive. There’d be no point in compromising herself if absolutely no one was benefiting from this. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Dom held the phone, pressed against her shoulder and her ear, opening the front door to the apartment building and entering. “Love you too. G’bye, Jai.” In a swift motion, she hung up and slid her phone in her pocket. Dom made her way up to the fourth floor. She stopped in front of one of the apartment doors, opened her palm and slammed it on the door three times. “Elliott Alderson, open up. It’s ASAC DiPierro.” Yes, the Dark Army had been swift with granting Dom a promotion. All the more money to buy Tyrell Wellick dolls with. Hurray.

“I don’t have all day, Mr. Alderson. I have a habit of kicking in doors when I’m impatient.”

    Shit. There it was, FIGHT OR FLIGHT. Elliot’s instincts pulling at him to run from this, fighting an arrest would be just as bad and if anything, out of all of them for the FBI to get their hands, apart from maybe Tyrell, he was the worst. Green eyes search for an escape as he feels Elliot practically yelling at him to do something instead of just standing there. How did he get so fucking careless that she had been able to get a hold of him?

    He didn’t doubt that he would actually be able to outrun the FBI agent but running may be his only choice. He would not allow himself to be sat in a room stuck again like they had been in prison, this was probably because of Elliot and he was going to get them out of this. Taking a step back, tongue darting across his lips, “ we haven’t got ANYTHING to talk about, Agent DiPierro … even if we did, why would you think I’d say anything to you? ”  Robot smirked, eyes catching the only way he could possibly run. This was going to be a bad idea but he was NOT going to be locked out of his revolution anymore. Taking a deep breath, he just hoped that Elliot was quicker on his feet than he ever gave him credit for and despite it probably be the WORST option, he took off in the direction that would offer him any chance of escape. 

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” Dom found herself saying that very phrase far too often while she was on this case. She was quick to hook the handcuffs back on her belt loop and chase after him. 

Elliot Alderson was a small guy, thin, history of mental illness, suspected drug abuse-- Dom rushed through all of the reasons in her mind why he should not be able to run this fast. What was a mistake was coming here by herself, or at least not calling back up when she was closing in. It was a surprise attack, he was supposed to be alone and he was alone. It had the makings of a great plan, Dom would give herself that but it fell apart, really fast.

She quickened her pace. It was time to keep this case together. Dom wasn’t going to pull out her gun. She had gone through training for this very scenario and many more. She could handle this. Easy. 

As she closed in Elliot she exhaled heavily. This really wasn’t easy at all. “Elliot. Shit. If you stop running.. now, I can give you immunity. Not just for resisting arrest, but for the case. “ Elliot clearly wasn’t stupid - he had evaded the FBI this long - so Dom didn’t tell a full lie. She could do that and just might. It was dependent on a lot of variables.

“Oh I understand Agent DiPierro. I understand very well about superiors, especially yours. Which is why I gave you these conditions.”

He patted her shoulder briefly. “Once you read these files, you will understand. And once you do, it will be up to you to decide if you want to continue following these conditions. I won’t stop you.”

“Though, you should know that I am only trusting you with this information because I admire your character and I wish to help you. You can always consider me as your friend.”

Dom brushed her tongue across her top teeth, looking down at the Minister, then the folder. She was thinking. It seemed like a win-win situation, really, but .. nothing was ever that easy. Dom wasn’t stupid, but she was paranoid. She couldn’t figure if that paranoia would help her or harm her.

She shifted her weight onto her left foot, her thoughts reading clearly on her face. Dom met the Minister’s eyes again. “You didn’t answer my question.”