what's eating washington? 🐜

               ❝Thank you.❞ Mike walks into the room when he’s able to do so. Honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect initially going into this. Other FBI agents had warned him about her and yet she appears to be cooperative thus far. Then again, the actual questions haven’t started so he doesn’t hold his breath.

              Mike moves to take a seat, pulling out a notepad and pen he can use to take notes. Eventually letting his gaze lift up from the notepad resting on his lap when he hears her break the silence in the room.

              ❝I do. You may hear some questions already asked from the other agents, but I just want to take some notes for my own records.❞ Might as well start from the very beginning. ❝What can you tell me about these head explosions?❞

okay. head explosions. this she can do. “yeah, uh... i mean, it’s pretty straight forward. i was in the ambulance with doctor dodier, and he was... irate.” okay, he was more than irate. “screaming about how badly his head hurt. i was holding his hand, trying to tell him that it would be okay, and then... his head exploded.” 

that’s all there is, really. in all honesty, she tries not to think about it. if she does, she can remember the warmth of his blood, the suddenness at which his hand went limp, the sound... and she really, REALLY can’t afford to think about that. 

               This isn’t quite what Mike expected when being sent to Washington DC for a second time. The first time he was dealing with the possibility of buses being used as means to smuggle drugs into the country. Now? Not a week after arriving he was thrown headfirst into a case he had little to no knowledge about. People’s heads are exploding with no warning whatsoever.

              There are some theories. Ranging from a disease to terrorists. Some are even putting the blame on brain eating bugs. This is where Mike came in. Ask Laurel Healy some questions. Maybe she’d open up more to him than the other agents. If his role in this has anything to do with his uncanny resemblance to one chief of staff. He would be the last to know.

              Agent Onofrio had personally warned Mike about Laurel. Claiming she’d say some things about him and the FBI in general that are untrue. Something that served as a red flag to the agent, but he didn’t bother asking any further questions of the agent until he had a chance to talk with her.

              While waiting, he did send some constituents away. Informing them Laurel would be able to meet with them as soon as she was able and to return in an hour or two. Hence the reason as to why he was sharing the room by himself when she came in.

              ❝I just came by to ask some questions.❞ Mike states as he moves to stand up from his seat. Probably not the answer she was looking for. ❝Can I come in?❞ Not that he’d actually walk away if she told him no.

can he come in. no. no, he can’t, thank you very much. if laurel had her way, she’d slam the door in this man’s face, lock it, and climb out the window and run for the airport, but. she doesn’t exactly have a choice in the matter. her grip tightens on the clipboard, nails leaving crescents in the wood. deep breaths, healy. you can do this.

“okay. yeah, sure, come on in--” laurel steps back, moving to let the agent into the room. as he walks past her, she takes a moment to do some investigating of her own. she can’t see any identifying information, so she can’t tell his name, but the fact that he looks so much like gareth makes her decide to call him blade runner. kind of a shitty nickname, but for now, it’ll do. 

               The thought of Laurel potentially not wanting him in the hospital room is instantly pushed off to the wayside when noticing her smile and a hand reaching out to him. Okay. Gareth doesn’t really think anything of it at first. Obviously the idea of her losing part of her memory is not the first thought that pops into his head. Still – all things considered – he reaches out, taking her hand. The least he can do right now is offer her support after what happened. If she wanted him to hold her hand while doing so? Then so be it.

              ❝You had us worried.❞ What else was Gareth supposed to think when he initially received the call? They don’t particularly call to provide good news. Then was the mention of Laurel being sent to the hospital by ambulance. Just because they reassured him she was in stable condition didn’t mean he didn’t worry about her safety.

              Gareth hasn’t really had much of a chance to speak with her doctor as of yet. So the day or time of Laurel’s release is unknown to him. His main concern when walking through the front door of the hospital was to check up on her. So far she seems to be okay. She’s awake and talking. That’s definitely something.

              ❝Your brother should be here in a couple hours. I let him know I’d stay until he gets here.❞ Y’know, because who wants their ex-boyfriend sitting by their bedside?

“yeah, well. tell that to the guy who hit me. if i had my way, i’d be at home drinking a glass of red wine and snuggled up to you...” her hand fits so well in his, she observes for what feels like the millionth time since they’ve started officially dating.  

but then the rest of what he’d said catches up to her. “wait -- until he gets here? you’re... gonna go?” she doesn’t want him to go. and besides, what would be the point? they’re going back to the same place anyways (he’s been staying at hers more often than not -- he’s even got a drawer) so why would he leave?

@insanityprinciple ❤’d for a starter

               A sense of normalcy is something Gareth thought he’d never experience again after the bug incident. The most recent account of a head exploding dates back to a little over a month now. Not to mention he and Laurel did witness the queen bug – or whatever the hell it was – killed right in front of them in Red’s office. In other words, he likes to believe they’re finally free of the epidemic.

              Except not everything is fine and dandy these days. There’s their relationship for one. A mostly mutual decision made between the couple. It’s an uncertainty as to whether it’s only temporary or permanent. As they had gone on a break in the past that had not even spanned a week’s time. So the chief of staff is surprised when he received a call to tell him Laurel had been sent to the hospital after a car accident. Apparently he was still listed as an emergency contact. Of course he notified Luke of the news, but he wouldn’t be able to swing by until a couple hours from now. The game plan now was for Gareth to show up and wait by her bedside in case she woke up prior to her family arriving. That way she wouldn’t have to wake up in a hospital room alone.

              Not ten minutes after Gareth makes it to Laurel’s room he notices her start to wake up. He never really bothered to wonder if she’d actually want him there until now. ❝Hey. How are you feeling?❞

it hadn’t been a bad accident. at least, that’s what laurel had been told. from what the police officer she spoke to said, it appeared that she’d been rear-ended at a relatively high speed, and her head had smashed forward into her steering wheel. her car was in the shop, but she would be just fine. no broken bones, no long lasting injuries, save for a nasty concussion.

at least, that’s what she’d been told. she can’t remember any of it. and if she has to be honest, she can’t remember even leaving her office, can’t remember much other than the fact that there are bugs in the ears of half of capitol hill, and that no one is safe. great.

she lifts a hand to rub at her temple -- it hurts, and she’s sure she’ll have a nasty bruise there once this is all over. she’ll have to ice it when she gets home, because they’re going to release her today. she has work tomorrow, after all. she has things to do.

at some point she falls asleep, even though they tell her not to sleep with a concussion (but she’s so tired, she’s been working crazy hours to deal with red’s new budget, after all) and when she wakes, gareth is stepping into the room.

her lips curl in an involuntary smile, and she reaches out a hand to him. okay, so if she’s playing up that she’s a bit more injured than she should be, then fine. she deserves this, okay, she deserves to have the first guy she’s loved in like... ever, and who actually loves her back, to take care of her.

“Pesticides? That’s what has you all up in arms? That seems like something weird to panic about, Laurel.” Sally rolled her eyes. “Okay. I’ll get rid of any I own. But I don’t know what we’re gonna do about all of the ones outside. DC is quite literally covered in them.”

“pesticides.” laurel nods her head, opening her mouth to respond, when she realizes -- she doesn’t have a good response to that one. “okay, but those are outside. the pesticides aren’t harmful out there. it’s when they get into your house that they start to get into your lungs.” 

... if the space bugs were’t bad enough, now people are getting cloned. 

gareth ritter is in the waiting area where luke’s office sorts all of the constituents waiting for laurel’s attention. but... that’s not possible, because laurel knows for a fact that gareth is sick, laying in her bed with a stuffy nose and a sore throat and pumped full of drugs. so how...

but... laurel squints a bit, and no... she can see the differences now. maybe it’s the way the suit fits, or the haircut, but... no. this isn’t gareth. the room is empty save for the man when she steps out, clipboard in hand, putting on her best ‘i’m here to help you’ smile.

that is, til she sees the badge. fbi. fuck.

“did onofrio send you?” she doesn’t mean to be rude, but some of anthony onofrio’s coworkers were just lobbying for her torture, so... yeah, maybe she does.

“ -- okay, but -- ” 

nope. that attempt doesn’t work either. luke and red keep talking, raising their voices even louder to be heard over laurel’s attempt at inserting herself into the conflict in order to just make it stop. she stares first at her brother, willing him to turn his head and look at her, and then at the republican senator, but neither of them are taking their eyes off of each other. things are escalating to an extreme amount over something so stupid as naming a coffee stand over ronald reagan (which -- ew, no--) and laurel is about to stand and slam her hands on the desk to break them up when freaking ella pollock walks in and laurel has had it.

she’s not about to sit and get in the middle of a three way debate, in her own office (why the hell are they even in there in the first place? bad timing, perhaps) and so laurel stands, slings her purse over her shoulder, and stomps out with a little more gusto than usual. 

she glances back, but no, they’re still arguing. she can practically feel the breeze from ella’s violent arm movement.

leaving the office, she nearly slams into someone, her hands coming up automatically to steady the both of them. 

“oh-- oh god, i’m so sorry--” laurel’s apologizing before she even realizes who it is -- while she doesn’t know the woman’s name, she’s seen her coming in and out of red’s office. “i’d... advise against going in there. they’re all...” her hand lifts, fingers wiggling next to her head, eyes wide, to show just how horrible it is in there. 

“Laurel? Laurel — stop.”

Sally put her hands up in a defensive position. “What?” She asked. “Do I have — probably? Why? Why are you so freaked out?”

“you have to get rid of them.” she can’t lose someone else, not after abby, and then stacy, and then herself, nearly. “throw them in the trash, in the dumpster behind the building, out the window... just OUT of your apartment, out of your office.”