Welcome to the Shadows

"You are far more than that. You have the potential to be of a higher level than most Mutants can ever dream to be. You got in the way of our assessment of Pandemic, and have become a consistent distraction. That is something that needs to be rectified… Now stop struggling."

He didn't realize G-96 was trying to mislead him into killing for the sake of 'protecting' Thomas... Nor did G-96 realize that The Spectre was going to jump at the chance to heartlessly kill anyone he perceived as a threat, nor that his own feelings would factor in beyond his care for Thomas.

So William was quite surprised when he stepped into the shadows of the lab and saw there was no one there... Naturally stepping into the bathrooms and looking for the man's shoes in a stall, he instead saw G-96 surgically puncture Tom, in a semi vital area no doubt.

Somehow, despite the overwhelming flow of rage, panic, and need to protect the man, The Spectre had the sense to not just appear out of midair. He stepped from the shadows outside of the bathroom door before opening it, staring at the two for a moment still partially in shock.

Thomas was slumped against the wall, still standing, as G-96 approached. It was just as surprising to the cyborg to see his 'partner' at such an inopportune time. Shifting into a simple appearance in case bystanders arrived, G-96 didn't anticipate much of a problem. The Spectre, after all, was not the better assassin. He found himself far more surprised when William, without skipping a beat, crossed the room and snatched G-96 up by the back of his neck and slammed his head into the nearby sink - he had underestimated The Spectre's strength.

Her playfulness and flirtatiousness ebbed when his demeanor turned more serious.  Her brows furrowed ever so slightly as she wondered if this was true concern she heard coming from him.  She became stock still as he appraised her.  His words were intimate.  Her stillness cracked when her brows knitted together in a hard, confusion-filled stare.

Just before his fingers finished their caress over her cheek, she flinched away.  A memory unhinged in her mind of a similar touch, one that would have most certainly stayed buried if it hadn’t been for her debacle with Thomas and Elizabeth.  She turned and walked away from his proximity, finding the closeness was stifling her air for some reason.  She proceeded to the couch were she sat down gently, a strange look on her face.

Her hand reached out and delicately trained fingers drew an invisible circle on the coffee table.  The circle began to glow and suddenly a stemmed glass grew.  Once it had reached maturity she plucked it and brought it to her lips.  Apparently the situation warranted a drink.

She drew another circle at the edge that was closest to William.  She conjured him up a large glass of something or other that she thought he would fancy.  She leaned back into the couch and sighed.

"The truth is hard at time, Dear William.  And at the present I do not feel like parting with it.  So for a while longer, it will be mine to bear."  She cut her eyes up to him, only a hint of sadness evident.  "Alone."  She smiled, then, sweetly.

Outwardly, The Spectre smiled warmly, shrugging just a little. "It is not meant as thanks... But you would be surprised how little most forms of magic work on me. It's a gift, of sorts." His eyes watched hers, slowly stepping out of her direct gaze, choosing his next words carefully.

"It's not my place to say who and who does not need help. But if I find out you need it, I won't hesitate to step in. Fear is not a concept I experience often, so I will... leap before I look, as mortals put it, if you appear to be in danger.

And I will not take no or 'I can handle it' as an answer at that point." William meant every word - he didn't know why, but a deep part of him regarded Ridley as his. Even though it was not consciously made known to him, the Entity could sense it.

"Amiss?" She echoed, turning curious eyes up to the ceiling to ponder the question.  The Spectre’s known fascination with Thomas Jones made her hesitant to give the truth freely.

"Not overtly."  She lifted her chin defiantly.  Her body language ever remained Ridley, even if she looked nothing like herself.  "A deal gone sour is all.  The recipient of which is more powerful than your average mundane."  Elizabeth’s bright, violet eyes flashed in her memory.  Viktor, too, made an appearance and she had to keep herself from wincing.  She had no intention of letting the mutant creep into her mind again.  Both she and Thomas were powerful.  She didn’t want to be caught sleeping by them if they decided what had transpired between them all wasn’t good enough…

She waved her arm around at the space, iterating.  “It comes with the job, William.”  She pushed off the table and came in close to him, daring to flirt with the darkness.  “Nothing you should spend time worrying over.”

"The original is, indeed, quite the unique gem." As she glanced upwards at the ceiling The Spectre watched her facial expression, wondering just what she was thinking. Even as she denounced his concern, making light of the situation, his face showed equal parts concern and disagreement.

"And yet, worry I shall.

Beings who carry as much beauty and power as you rarely make deals without a risk. Your true nature enhances that rarity to the point of disbelief, as you are both a gambler and a curious one at heart." As she approached William took a step closer, stopping his advance only just before touching her... Something he remedied by running a hand over her cheek.

"Tell me the truth. I am sure I can find a way to help. Please?" He gave Ridley the closest thing he could to what was often coined a 'puppy dog look', although the playful face was of questionable merit.

She decided to pay homage to her late grandmother, the only female of her Le Fay family that truly loved her.  Her glamour settled into place, a striking resemblance to Althea’s young self.  And as it were she would adopt “Thea” as her given name.

Artemis clucked at her from her perch, not completely happy with Ridley’s current guise, but accustomed to this face none the less.  Ridley turned to her, tsking.  “It’s a necessary evil, Artemis.”  Her brow furrowed and anger settled into her features as she thought about the debacle.

She had also moved her ‘mundane’ home to a new location.  The move was hasty and she had yet to secure her abode with wards to alert her to intruders.  A knock and a voice assaulted her ears and she nearly startled.  She calmed as she picked up on the familiar presence and tone of voice.  She was glad she had left instructions on finding her new abode to anyone that mattered.

"William," she said through a sigh as she came into the living room.  "A sight you are, for my sore eyes."  Artemis flew in behind her and found purchase on her shoulder.

"I would invite you in but it seems you have done so yourself."  She chided, but her smile was indicative of her teasing.

I had known you were moving, but I did not anticipate the new... look." His head tilted to the side, eying her up and down.

"It is certainly much more... generically human than your true form. Is something amiss?"

"I traded my ability to express emotion for locking telepaths out of my head."He looked at William then, his look helpless.

The Spectre grew quieter. There was only one person who he knew of in that realm of possibility... He'd have a visit to make later, but for now it was important to maintain the illusion of his job.

"Well, that is... Ah..."

He swallowed and tilted his head at Thomas.

"That is... Well, I work in SHIELD for a reason, right? Ah...

The elevator music was an instrumental of some pop hit from the 90’s, the atmosphere quiet and professional except for her death grip on his sleeve. Once the doors opened again, she was back on the move, dragging him behind her to her car.

Letting go of him, she jumped into the drivers seat, grinning at him. “C’mon, Riddles, I’m not gonna bite. I’ll leave that to Chaos Kitty.” 

She looked at him through the passenger’s window, grinning like a loon. It was rare that she spent time with anyone, aside from shouting out the window at her neighbors and the occasional visit from Johnny. “I’ll buy ya a burrito for your troubles, Doc.”

As she hopped into the driver's seat and tried to 'bribe him' into coming with her, William shook his head and opened her passenger door.

"I am not a big mexican fan, to be honest. But the peace of mind that will come from resolving the issues with you and your cat will be more than worth the trouble. I am, after all, here to help."

It occurred to The Spectre that Wanda might not be the safest driver and decided to remove his glasses, putting them in his pocket.

He eyed his patient, again scanning his face as he glanced down. Each person was different, but they all had reads or tells. For some, it was voice inflections, for others is what body language, or facial expressions, or nervous tics. He had learned to quickly size up which patient did what, and Tom was no different.

The man's eyes burned ahole through the carpet and soothed himself by touching his hair, both signs of inner turmoil.

"How did you fuck up, Thomas? What happened?

You know everything in these walls is confidential, and you won't be held accountable for things you have told me."

"You know a fuck ton about cats." She jumped up out of her chair and excited look on her face. "You should come meet her!! You could be like the Cat Whisperer or whatever! Or the Wanda whisperer, Riddles! You can show me what to do."

Wanda grabbed his hand, tugging him to stand and walk with her. “C’mon, Riddles, it’ll do me tons of good! It’s like couples counseling for me and the fuzzball.” She grabbed his coat off the stand and draped it over his head, pulling him out into the hall with her.

"Hey, Agnes! Er, Astrid…Augusta…whatever. Cancel the Doc’s appointments or reschedule or whatever, cuz I’m taking him with me." The little secretary looked like a dear in headlights, her gaze darting back and forth between the good doctor and Wanda. 

"He’s got a cat to whisper to."

"What? No, I'm not..." Before he could argue, she had yanked him out of his chair and tossed his coat over his head. As he stumbled out the door and managed to get his outerwear over his head, William's eyes caught the receptionist's... He was wearing a look of complete confusion.

Recovering quickly, The Spectre nodded, knowing this would be the worst possible way to blow his cover. He was very, VERY thankful the afternoon had been clear.

"Why don't we start with a simple question - what's wrong? You're a brilliant scientist and a doctor in your own right, you know the battle against time is the greatest enemy we can have. So why have you been abandoning your labs, both metaphorical and literal?"

It was an obvious but hard-hitting question. He always tried to draw work or scientific-based parallels to the sessions for Thomas. It, for the most part, seemed to capture his attention more and make the importance of William's work even more obvious.

He wanted to ask why the man didn't share his thoughts and issues, why Thomas didn't see him as a friend. It bothered William that he knew everything that went on in the man's life, but he never tried to share it. Determined to stay professional, however, he bit his tongue and simply stared Tom down, waiting for an answer.

She leaned forward, looking at him closely, a question in her face. “Is that normal? I’ve never had a pet before. I mean, Headpool was kind of a pet, but he could communicate and he wasn’t mine.” She was genuinely curious, an almost childlike quality that Wanda had possessed. She wasn’t always curious, but on occasion, it sneaked up on her. 

"Very normal, especially if the cat was not trained early on to avoid it.

Cats are natural born hunters - their version of playing is often aggressive if not handled properly. Try scheduling play time once or twice a day - playing with your hands, petting her, rough housing a little. Teach her that using her claws or teeth are a no-no.

Start out gentle, gradually increase the activity and pace. If she bites or draws her claws, immediately stop, sort of like playing dead. This tends to verify to their instincts that the prey has given up or, in your case, that you are displeased. Do NOT resume playing until she's retracted her claws or let go.

If she bites or scratches hard, make it clear. Enunciate with a loud and audible admission of pain - OUCH is an obvious one. Then scold the cat and walk away. Try to avoid any negative reinforcements like water bottles and such, those should be reserved for bigger problems."

"Why do I even HAVE a cat?" She raised her head up off the desk, a deep red spot formed directly in the center of her forehead. "The damn thing’s always trying to kill me in one way or another." Rubbing the spot, she looked at him. 

"So…should I bring her a mouse as a peace offering? Think it’ll work? Because I dont feel like being smothered by cat butt."

"I wouldn't advise it - the last thing you need is a power struggle. Let me ask you this, how many problems were you having BEFORE the..." He paused, searching for the words to properly refer to the situation. The Spectre had to admit, he was probably the only person in all of SHIELD whose patient's main problem was recorded as "feels threatened by housecat, fears being murdered in sleep by it".

"...Ah, incident with the rodent?"

"She brought in a rat and I killed it before she could. She wasn’t happy with me, hissing and growling when I pulled it away from her and chucked it out the window. It landed in Mrs. McLuski’s car." Wanda smiled brightly. "The mean old bat has one of those cars with no top, you know? She puts a tarp over it when it rains and she throws rocks at the kids who go near it. She’s pretty funny." 

Wanda’s shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Anyway, the rat landed in her car and Kitty got sprayed with a hose trying to get it out. I think she’s mad because I laughed at her.”

"You, ah..."

He snickered again. "You basically declared war on her, Wanda.

Dead animals, especially a presentation of the kill in progress, is a sign of subservience and loyalty from a cat. In killing it yourself, and then throwing it to someone else is the equivalent of someone bringing a peace offering, and you telling them it's not good enough before giving it to your grumpy neighbor.

There wasn’t much to be said for movies nowadays. Wanda preferred comedies. When she said comedies, she meant explosions, slutty campers being stuffed into sleeping bags and bashed against trees by hockey mask wearing psychopaths, and anything Quentin Tarantino. She had collected all of her favorite movies, something that had cost her a small fortune, and had them lining her living room walls quite lovingly. She treated those films better than she treated most of her weapons.

So, when Wanda came home to find her movies scattered all over the floor, her cat frozen in place, staring at her like a kid with its hand in the cookie jar, Wanda took a deep breath, turned around and walked right out of her apartment, getting on her bike and speeding to the only thing that she knew would really help: her Therapist.

Marching into Riddles’ office, she walked right past the receptionist, just like she always did despite the woman’s protests, and barged into his office. She barely gave him a moment to register her arrival before she went off on her tangent.

"I missed Halloween and I let it go, she scratched up my couch and I let it go, she barfed up a hairball on my coffee table and IT WAS MOHAGONY," Wanda’s arms were waving frantically in the air, almost comedically, "and I let it go. But she knocked down my bookshelf with my movies on it and was playing with them and I CAN’T LET THAT GO!" 

Wanda put her hands on her hips. “Kitty’s punishing me, Riddles. She’s punishing me for something and I know it. Next thing you know, she’ll learn to open doors so she can kill me in my sleep and eat my corpse.”

So when Wanda barged yelling, he swiveled around and swallowed his gum with a cough, not entirely sure of what she was getting at.

"I... What?"

William took a moment to compose himself and absorb the information, waving off the receptionist as she came in behind Wanda. The poor woman tried so hard and she was a good person - it was a shame she'd probably be summarily executed in a few weeks.

Tom found that he couldn’t look Will in the eye and his chest felt like hit was being crushed.His mind tried desperately to string together words but he had none. The man had effectively cut him down to nothing in twenty seconds.When he finally spoke his voice was faint and hoarse, betraying just how well the little speech had affected him. 

"I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean..I didn’t know you felt…I’m sorry." He felt weighed down with shame, unable to really properly express himself.Everything William said was true and he couldn’t deny it when it was thrown at him like that.

"It's alright. I shouldn't have snapped like that, Thomas. I am sorry." He shook his head - later The Spectre would wonder why he had even been a little upset to begin with, much less why he cared so much, but at the moment his only concern was the wounded man in front of him.

"It's just... It is very frustrating to see someone with so much potential hung up on the intricacies of sociality and fear that are ultimately irrelevant to our lives. I care for you, not just as a patient but as a person.

I want there to be two established relationships here - the professional and the casual." William quickly snatched a hankerchief out of his pocket, crouching down in front of Tom to wipe away tears.