#angler!ghost

She didn't dream that night.

And when she woke the next morning, she wondered if it was because Ghost had left her alone. Favoring rest, rather than ‘recreation’.

Yesterday was such a blur now that she wondered if it had even really happened. It felt like a weird, lucid dream that Ghost had put in her head- like all of the others. 

Waltz leaned back in her desk chair, a creak filling the ever-humming, industrial ‘quiet’ of the room as she pulled up the sleeve covering her right arm. Now that the blood had been washed away, there wasn't even any evidence of her wounds at all. Ghost had healed her so perfectly that there weren’t even scars.

But Ghost had scars. He had many. She'd seen them when she was trying to untangle him from the wires. If he could fix her without leaving a mark, then why couldn't he do it to himself?

She'd have to remember to ask.

What bothered her most about her absent injuries was the knowledge that she and Ghost had literally bled into each other's wounds. What, if anything, could happen from that kind of contamination? 

She'd probably be ill by now if any negative effects were to happen, but… 

What if, right??

She was the first to arrive at the lab in the early morning.

Part of her was surprised that all that blood on the floor was gone when she entered. Barrera and Price likely cleaned it up themselves, since so few people were permitted in the room with Ghost. Custodial workers didn't have the clearance to enter. 

The razor wire had also been removed. The top of the tank was bare. 

She wondered if it would ever be replaced now that the hazard to personnel was known. 

Knowing Price and Barrera, they'd likely gone to Graves immediately after the incident and chewed him out for the wire even being there in the first place. Still wearing blood, to get their point across.

As they'd seen now, Ghost could've climbed out at any time he wanted. He'd simply chosen not to, this whole time. He hadn't posed any danger since capture; and even allowed her and John to untangle him without so much as showing his teeth or raising a hand.

The wire had been pointless from the beginning. 

Ghost had always been the one in control of the situation.

She knew that now. 

She wondered if König had a similar hold over Tango. If isolating her had been his goal. 

Some creatures chose only one mate.

Waltz paced to the tank and stepped up close to the glass, eyes straining in search of a hint of a glow.

She was fine after the incident, save for some lightheadedness until she ate something. But Ghost had lost more blood than she did. 

He’d been cut much deeper than she had. Bled longer. 

Even if he had a human-shaped circulatory system, he was almost certainly in poor condition. And without knowing what he was or how to help him, it was impossible to determine whether he'd survive. 

Or if he was even alive right now.

Come closer, she urged, forehead leaned against the glass. She had no idea how, but she could feel his presence in this lab with her. Even without seeing him, she knew he was here. 

How had she gotten so invested in him from just a few good dreams? A few moments of nonverbal connection?

Hearing her name from his mouth? Calling weakly out for her when he was in pain? Accepting her help and helping her in return?

Her eyes closed and she heaved a sigh.

They were bonded somehow. She knew it like she knew how to breathe. And she, somehow, knew that he knew it too. Whether it had been staged was still up for debate.

Show me you're alive, she thought.

Then she saw his glow through her eyelids, dimmer than usual.

Opening to see him resting against the glass as well, forehead to forehead, hand to hand. 

She didn't like how the sight of him gripped her chest as she pulled back from the tank wall. It was like seeing a lover after a long absence. Terrifying and exciting and familiar and comforting all at once. Love at first sight, one hundred sights later. She shouldn't be feeling like this. 

Did you climb out to see me…?

Y̢̘̰̠̓͆ͅę̱̯̳͓̼̘̳͈̝̪͇̓ͅs̨̠̭̭̯͈̯̤̬͐̈́̌͒̎̏̾̔͘͝͝.̘̹̼̞̊͊͂̆̒͌͠

Why?

I̘̐͑̈́̓͒̏͂͆̇́̿͑t̪̺̺̱͈̲̙͈̣̦̙̙͖͙͙̊̓̋̃̍ ̧͇̝͈̟̖̖̻̹̦̂͛͝w̡̪̋̆̐̈́̔̇̆̎́̈́͑̚̚͠a̫͇͇̘̻̘͍̟͖̹̖̩͉̣͋̂̓̈́̀̓̓̏̄̍̇̆͘͜͝ś͉̺̲͉͕̝̫͓̜̙̬͓̝̈́͋͒̿͑́ ̨̛̻̘͈̬͍́͗̆̄ͅẁ̨̲̹̘̭̘̻͇̰̤̪̮̱̥͊̈́͋͋̍͋͌̚h̜͈͇͊̀̇̓̀̒̅̿̏̐̂͘͘a̧̛̛̝̮͙̲̤͇͚͕̤͋̿̆̐̀̄̚͝t̨̛̬̻̗̜̔̐͒̀̂̔̒̑͊͘͠͝ ̺̼͕̲͎̌̏̓̂̈́̇͝y̻̱̖̟̑̀̋͐̀̍͆̋̀̽͠͝ȍ̡̡̼͔̮̭͉̠̯̲̆̎̈́͒̑́͒̐͑̒̓̽̚͜u̜̪͎͇̺͙͂̕ ̧̖̹̱̩̘̲̮̜͈̬̦̣͍̲̍̕w͓̦̺̺̯̱̻̙̃́͐̀̊̐̈́́̀̌̋ẩ͇̰̪͈̗̙̮̗͓̺̝̤̦́̈̈̃̽̚͘n͚̝̝̍̎t̡̢̟͍̪͇͓̽͂̅͌͝e̢̤͇̹̥͕̖͓͔̓̀̓̐̐̈́̊d̹̠̗̰̞̙̼̤̀̂̏͐͆̈́̂̀̏̆̽́͝͝͝ͅ.̣͖̘̮̥͌̈́̈́͂

It felt ridiculous to know she was telepathically ‘speaking’ with someone– something, that wasn't even human. But this ease of communication was the first she'd had in a very long time. 

And maybe she was happy to have it. 

What if I wanted you to stay in the water?

Ì̟͓͙͚͍̟̂́̏̉ ̡̛͓̣̭̤̻̩̻̐̿̅̓̓̊̀̀͂̕͝͝͝w̡̡̧̖̗̥͓̝͙̰̖̤͒͌̆͊̆͗͝͠ͅo̢̢͒͆̑̉̐͑́̀̆̐̐̏̈́̈́̃u̡̱̟̤̲̬̗̻͂̒̈́̍̋̀̽̈́̐̌͠l̻͇͓̝͍̳̖͉͈̀̆̕ͅd͙͙͔̈́̆͋͐̏̓̈́͒͘̕̕͜ ̧͙̫̗̠̦̬̟͈̹̩̈́̃̽̔͜͜͝͝s̢̙͉̭̟̞̣̲̙̪̓̐̿̿̀̉̈́̾̌̓̎́ͅt̡̢̢̼̟͉̫̰̱̣̪̫̓̎̔͗̎̅ä͎͕̩̘͚̞̣̬̽͒̊y̙̩͉͙̠̓̀́̄͆̀̋̔̏̃̈́̉͐͘͜.̨̢̛̖͍̯̮̖̜̦̪͕̣͈̯̆͑̾̾̅̈́̿̈́͑̆̎͝͝

It was so strange to be understood without strain. Without effort. 

She would've given anything for this from a person. But with sentience and human shape, who was to reasonably say that Ghost wasn't a person? 

What are you– and König, the other one?

His head turned to the side, like he had to think. Like it was the first time he'd ever thought about it.

I̯͎̪̤̳͓͕͕̝̓͐̔͒͑͑̄̃̅̑̅͜ ̩̭̙̳̳͕̠̖̣̤̫͙̫̘̿̎̒̅̆̅d̢̢̨̧̛͇̥͎̤̜̰̘͙͆̊̎̍̃̈́͐̓̉̉̒͘͜͝ö̻͍̝̻̭͚̲̟̗̜̰̦̈́̒͜͠n̰͙̖̝̝̘̗͒̔̎̔́̾̂'̧̮̠̫̪̳͓͇̹̞̪̠̪̪̯̂̈̃͑̍̈́͐͝͝t̡͙͚̫̬̟̙̊̅̀͛͘͝ ̢̢̗͖̮̣̣͒͗͐̊̀̓̋̔͂̽̏̕̕k̨̨̘̖͚͎͕̼̥̝̼̬͓͈̿̑̈̈̔̂̄̆̎ͅņ̜͈̤͍̞̻͎͔̣̰̈́͐̀̈́ŏ̯͗̆̆̇̆w̡̍̑̿̊̑̈͘͜.̢̬͕̻͎̹͖͓̳̈̃͐̆̓́͒̈͗͌͛̈́̋͑̏ͅ.̢̳͖͇̭͑̈̐͋́̐͋͝.̖̠̰̖̺̱̼̝̦͖͇͕͆̈́̋̀͘͜͜

Waltz felt her stomach sink.

Of all the answers she could've expected, that wasn't one of them. 

Of course, animals didn't know they were animals. They only recognized that other animals were different from themselves. Only humans assigned names to the things they came across in nature, including themselves and each other. 

But Ghost and König, as sentient as they were, didn't even have a clue as to what they were?

Jesus fucking Christ, how was she even going to explain something like this to Barrera? And should she?

What if Ghost and König weren't animals at all? What if they really were alien?

They'd probably be taken from Sierra Golf and put on a government blacksite. Go from being humanely poked and prodded at by marine biologists to being vivisected by anonymous, pentagon-approved butchers.

The thought nauseated and saddened her. 

They should be let out, she thought. They shouldn't be in cages. 

I̭̋̓̽̓̊̅̾̉̔͛̈́̿͝͠ ̤̙̫̖͍̻̲͚̙̙͇̰́̃̐̒̿̿̚̕͝ͅẁ̩̩̫̫̦̓̒â̤̠̭̪͕̦̬͎̪̪͛n̢͚͎͎̲̠̠̳̼͈̩̲̬̾̂͛̓̏͛̓ͅt̨͉̜̯͍͐̐͆̓̐̍̏̈̽͘ ̞͓̭̪̥͠ṭ̰͚̻̆̍̒͑̾̾̂͑͛̂̚͠ơ̛̮͖̥̭̭͚̈́͐̈̅̈̓̀̀̎̐͋̎ ̦͑͒́̑̀͒̅̋̾͘̕s̟̦̥̭̖̼͐̍̀̆̎͋͊̓͝ͅţ̧̡̛̲͓͎̩̪̰͈͔́̋̌̄̓̋̇̅͆̎̀̓̑͝ȃ̢̡̯̦͇͔͇͔̩̻͖̮͙̃̈́́̊̈́̓̇͋͑͆̊͛̕͠ỹ͍̮͇̬̫̫̼̙̼̘̭̝̯̚̕ ̫̰̙̏̿̽w̢̡͍̺̫̻͛͛̏͂̇̑̽̇͒͝͠i̧̨̯͖̱͎͉̣͓̞̲̦̿̈̓̎ͅt̛̺͙̻͚͕̞͗̀͑̒͊̆̒͑̊̋̇h̟̬̪͔̭̫͂̅̂̆̈́̂͘̕ͅͅ ̡̨̛̣̗̯̝̻̘̘̗͆́̌̄͂͗͋͂͗̎̚̕̚͜͜͝ỳ̧̖͍̲̩͍̯͖̼̣̭̽̈́̐̇͆̿̓̃͝͠͝͝ǫ̨̥̯̱̯͓͓̫̠̗͖͌͛͋͜u̜̖̹̒͛̈́.͔̝̬̲̱̭̳͍͚́̒̅̋̓̑̆͐͂̎͘͜͠ͅ

She didn't know until now that Ghost could hear all of her thoughts. Not just the ones she wanted him to hear.

How much did he know about her? 

She stepped back from the glass to look at him as a whole in the dim light. 

He was tall. Strong, with powerful musculature… Lowkey hung.

Physically attractive. A face hardly mattered when he didn't even have one to begin with- and when everything else was so appealing. 

Realistically, he was shaped like her ideal man. And in her dreams, he knew how to touch her. Every move on the dot. He ‘spoke’ to her with affection and patience and didn't draw any sort of attention to her disability because it didn't even matter. Maybe he knew her preferences already and leaned into them. If knowing that much about her had emboldened him enough to try to climb out to her when prompted.

And what was he really expecting to do when he got to her?

Act on the fantasies he put into her head when she slept?

An urge in the back of her head demanded for her to find out. A strange, intrusive desire that she could relate to thoughts of jumping off a massive height- just to see what might happen, even reasonably knowing what the end result would be. 

Death. Always death. 

But not this. 

Death wasn't certain in this scenario.

She thought maybe that was why the call to proceed sounded so, so good. 

This wasn't exactly the same as taking someone home from the bar, but…

Ghost's head turned to peer at something past her, but she didn't think anything of it. Too busy wondering what was going so wrong in her head so quickly.

“Couldn't wait to get back to him?”

Waltz jumped at the sound of John's voice behind her and realized he'd entered without her even noticing. She leaned against the glass, hand over her eyes as she came down from the adrenaline, giving him a loud huff! in reprimand for surprising her.

Price only chuckled and wandered closer with his hands in his pockets. “Sorry, love. Thought you heard me come in.” He looked to Ghost. “He noticed right away.”

She sighed and stood upright again, eyes turning to the tank to see Ghost observing them both. 

“I tried to come and check on you last night,” John added. “You must've been asleep. You didn't answer.”

She nodded, an apology in her expression. 

Guests in rooms were frowned upon on the afloat facility; mainly to discourage people from fucking. 

It happened anyway, of course. She and John were no exception. They'd slept together more than a couple of times, but things stayed casual between them.

“Safe to say Ghost's taken a liking to you,” he noted, eyes not leaving the creature in the tank. “You worried about that?”

Waltz shook her head. “I don't know what to think about it,” she signed.

Would it be a bad idea to tell him about what she'd been experiencing? She hoped it might at least help her snap out of whatever was going on if she told someone. 

‘Never be the lowest ranked person with a secret.’ And in this exact scenario, she was the lowest ranked individual.

“I have dreams about him,” she signed. “Sex dreams.”

John looked over at her, absolutely baffled. “Serious?”

All she could offer was a nod and a broad, clueless shrug. It wasn't like she would consciously choose to fuck him without his influence… Right? “This is just what I get for wanting to stay on the project.”

“Guess you made your bed,” Price agreed, half-joking. “S'pose it wouldn't be too unethical to think about. He's almost human- just looking at him.”

“Humans and Neanderthals mixed,” she reasoned, hating that she was making excuses for herself. Historically, it took less internal conflict for her to fuck men far less attractive.

“They did,” he mused. “This isn't so different…”

“No.”

“Don't get ideas,” he sighed, rocking on his heels. “Barrera did say that isolating Ghost with you was a test to see if Ghost would focus on you. Not the other way around.”

He was right, and the truth of it stung more than it should've. 

She shouldn't have been thinking of Ghost sexually, romantically, or anything more than just as a lab specimen. 

She wanted to talk to Tango about it.

But Tango was gone now. Transferred with König to the ashore facility where they had better testing equipment. 

Would Ghost eventually qualify to go there too?

And if he did-

Ẇ͎̘̇́̉̋̎́͐͊̒̍ö̱̻͙̝̞̗̮̣̭̹̱́͜ủ̡̨̡͖̺̭͍̩͉͙̰̥̀l͖̺͖̻͓̣̬̤̳͆̇͂ͅd̨͎͙̺̳̟̳̭̤͉̬̾̽̏͆̃̑͊͐̎̒͛̚͠͝ ̤͉̟̘̗̭͎̪̺̙̖͒́̅̅̽̎̇͊̚̕͘̕ͅy̱̹̰̝͕̝̖̦̗̓̈́̾̎̄̿̀̒͘o̧͎͓̖̲̻̮͓̯̎̄ú̡̺̹͙̠̮̯̪ ͈̱̘͎̣͚̞͕̺̹̘̇͋͜͝ͅĝ̨̛̻̤̜͂͒̐̾̐̉̀͠ơ̢̗͍̙̺̺̫͌͑͋́̀̍̇͛̕̕͘̚͠ͅ ̢̲̬̝̺͖͕̎̀̏̑͂̈̂̎́̀̈͝͝w̲̝͚͔̪̺̣̦͈̞̣̃ͅḯ̹̤͎̜̂̍̔̍ţ̟͔̣̫̗̏͌͑̓̍͌̔̅́̔͑͠ḣ̨͇̞̘̫̥̼̫̭͐͊́̾̓̅̆͗̀̏͒̈́͛̚͜͜ ̢͕̙̖̬͔̈́͌͛̌̚m̢̥̰̪̰̝̦̯͎̀̋̑̅͂͠ȩ̠̯̘̘̘̤̗͈͇̑͑̆̃̌̓͛͗̐̾̄̍͒̽̌?̡͔͖͙͉͕̱̤̂̔͗

She unwittingly flinched at the question, having to remind herself that he could read all of her thoughts. 

I don't know. 

With Ghost being the afloat facility's number one concern now, Raven may as well have been under a microscope along with him. She knew her interactions with him were pivotal for research simply because Barrera had spilled that secret.

Price had convinced her to tell Barrera (off the record) about her dreams, and now his focus had shifted from monitoring Ghost to monitoring her- down to her vital signs, diet, sleep habits– and even questions about her sexual health. 

The questions were clinical, thankfully, and she didn't feel too weird about answering them. Jokes weren't made. Notes weren't even taken. This was to stay away from Graves; and she was grateful for that.

However, secret or not, it didn't do anything to ease her mind. 

The explicit visions continued after a day or so of Ghost’s recovery.

She could feel it all as if it was actually happening to her. And, for once, she was willing to let herself like it. If she couldn't do so while awake, she'd do it where it was harmless… Only to wake up as the Ghost in her dreams was finally lined up between her legs. 

She wouldn't ever tell a soul that she'd finished the job herself that night. Rutting pathetically against her fingers until she was sweating and overstimulated. It was all she could do to finally fall back asleep.

“... I think you should do it.”

Raven choked on her coffee, having to spit it back into her mug to keep it from getting everywhere when she began a coughing fit, putting down the ruined brew to fight to clear her throat. Face red, mortified that she was hacking up a lung in the middle of the galley because Barrera had greenlit the worst idea yet after a quick few questions about her latest vision– which she described as vaguely as possible.

He waited for her to catch her breath, watching as she quickly grabbed her water to take a big gulp and right herself. Not speaking again until she set the cup back into place on the table. 

“I think it might change the course of my research if you do,” Barrera continued, quietly, so that no one else could hear. “Ghost has been harder than König to study. He won't come out for anyone but you. Maybe it'd make him more social…? Feel more secure…?”

He trailed off when he saw how Raven's expression grew more sour by the second. 

“You'd have privacy,” he added, last-second. “Nobody to watch. I won't ask questions… At least not about you.”

“No,” she mouthed. “Not doing it.”

Even if permission was pretty much the final step.

She was horny, and deprived of sex for the last couple of months, but she wasn't stupid.

She wasn't gonna get into the tank and fuck something that could very well drown her in the process. Something that could hurt her, if it wanted. Something that damn well could eat her instead, having lured her in like some kind of little fish, dumbly swimming towards a pretty light suspiciously deep in the dark parts of the sea bed- just to be torn to shreds by something with teeth as long as her pinky. 

“You said something about sexual parasitism before,” she reminded, having to harshly whisper to be heard over the sounds of the communal space around them. 

“Oh, I didn't even think you were listening to that– So,” Barrera began, revisiting the exact conversation. “The reason I brought that up was his physical size. Female anglerfish are much bigger and much sharper. You think of any ol’ anglerfish, the one you're picturing is female. Ghost is, physically, male. The males of the species are tiny. You wouldn't even recognize it as the same fish. And when they're lucky enough to find a female, they latch on permanently. They can even fuse so that they're–” he paused when he saw the newly horrified look on her face. “But it probably won't happen for him-!”

She couldn't possibly believe that just having sex would fix all of this. If that was true, what was stopping her from getting it elsewhere? She could fuck Price again and reap the benefits. They always had fun when they hooked up- and it'd been a while. She always felt so much relief after ending long dry spells.

That would fix me, she told herself as she sat in the laboratory, even knowing that Ghost could hear. Would he be jealous if she slept with someone else?

Was he even capable of jealousy, or envy?

Raven found herself eyeing John, knowing there was only one way to find out an answer to any of her conjecture: with an experiment of her own. Knowing that it posed its own risks to pursue at this point. But if Ghost wouldn’t leave the tank without her prompting anyway- what was really stopping her?

“Psst,” she got Price to look her way with the subtle sound. 

Then, once she had his attention, she casually spread her knees open where she was sitting. Asking, but without asking. More like reminding him that he was still very welcomed between her legs.

His brows raised slightly. A question of ‘right now?’ as his gaze briefly flicked towards a very distracted Dr. Barrera, who was blissfully ignorant that his two security guards had their own secret little meetings.

She cocked her head towards the exit of the lab, then stood and left without announcing to Barrera that she was going. He likely wouldn’t notice their absence with how lost he’d been in reading DNA sequencing. Apparently he’d sampled Ghost’s blood while it was all over the floor, and was finally getting some readout.

She didn’t so much as glance over her shoulder when she left the lab, walking down the passageway and hearing the Lab B door open again just moments after she’d walked out.

Raven couldn’t help but smirk to herself as she made her way to her room, knowing Price was in tow. 

So, as soon as she’d gotten into her room, she just waited in the doorway to make sure no one else was coming- and let the door lock behind him when he’d entered and nudged it shut with the back of his boot. 

And he hadn’t just walked into her room, he’d done so with a crash of his lips into hers. God, she felt better already, being backed up a few paces until they were standing at the edge of her narrow bed. Not big enough for two to sleep on- and definitely not big enough for two (or more) to have sex on.

So they kept it simple- and fucked on the floor.

Tango had been so run-down while working alone with König- until she suddenly wasn't. She wasn't around anymore to answer questions, but it was assumed now that she was finally able to rest peacefully because she let König have what he wanted. They had to be fucking. Had to be.

Waltz wasn't doing much better, despite the sex two days ago. The dark circles under her eyes, her inattentiveness, and general fixation on Ghost were too similar to Tango's symptoms to have any other solution at this point.

So after Barrera came clean to both Waltz and Price about this assumption, Price was surprisingly on board. 

“Something has to be done,” he told her, when he saw the appallment on her face. “Or else you'll die of exhaustion. We're lucky Ghost has only had one incident on-record when König had us on high alert for weeks with the amount of times he'd breached containment.”

So, now she had two people warmed up to the idea of her fucking Ghost. 

Waltz suddenly had a grim acceptance of her circumstances. As much as she wanted to believe that she wasn't someone who would have sex with a monster… She was probably going to have to, just for her health. 

Or so she told herself.

Just looking over at the tank and seeing a hint of Ghost’s glow in the abyss made her heart ache like she missed him. She remembered how soft and human his skin felt under her hands, and when he touched her face…

God, she wanted to, didn't she?

She wanted to see if it was as good as her manufactured visions.

The look in her eyes must've been so obvious…

“Mira,” Barrera began, taking her out of her head. “I'm going to go for a walk on the weatherdeck. A long walk. Maybe an hour, maybe longer. Whatever you decide to do, the lab is locked and no one's coming in. You coming, Captain?”

“I'll stay,” Price solemnly decided, hands in his jacket pockets as he reclined in his rolling chair, his eyes also on the tank. “Someone should make sure she's safe. You alright with that?”

Waltz nodded, anxiously chewing the inside of her lips to shreds. If this was happening, she was glad to have a safety net. Even if it meant being watched. 

Jesus Christ, he was going to watch.

Barrera didn't make any comments about it, professional otherwise; only seeing himself out of the lab, leaving the two field researchers with their subject.

For a long moment, no one moved or spoke.

Then Waltz reluctantly stood and faced the tank. Her heart was hammering like mad- whether the anticipation was good or bad, she couldn't say. 

I guess this is happening.

Within moments of the thought crossing her mind, the being in the water was climbing out of the tank. Now unrestrained and unrestricted. Water poured off of his powerful frame as he dropped to the floor, on his knees, unused to this environment and the gravity of dry air.

Raven found herself reflexively moving towards him to help him- but he stood without her help, saltwater pooling at his feet.

He looked at her- and at Price. Not moving closer just yet.

“You know,” John broke the silence, making her turn towards him. The words left him as if he'd been fighting to hold them in– or find the right time to say them. “I've started having the dreams too. Since he’d gotten out of the water… I really thought we'd fix this the other day. Seems he's got us both now… I’m– sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Raven's expression slackened. How had she not noticed? She could see the exhaustion so clearly now that he'd said something. 

Had she really become so obsessed with Ghost that nothing else crossed her mind? Not even her friend's health? 

And what might have happened when she wasn’t in the lab? Whenever John was alone with Ghost?

She felt she owed Price an apology, and she'd been about to mouth the word to him when thick, wet fingers turned her by her jaw, towards Ghost, who had stealthily overtaken her in seconds. 

She flinched, but ultimately froze, made to look up at him with a gentle tilt of her chin.

Brown eyes met brown eyes, and she thought he had a look of affection in his gaze.

She couldn't tell quickly enough- because now he was kissing her. 

She froze up when the ‘lips’ of his facial structure pressed into hers, the teeth of his human pseudo-skull lightly scraping the skin above her upper lip. Her first instinct was to pull back. To push him away. Her palm pressed up against the solid shape of his bicep in preparation to do so– but she couldn’t find the want to exude any force. Not when he was being so, unexpectedly, tender.

How strange, it really felt like he was wearing a mask and was using a human mouth to kiss her through it. Like there was a thin veil separating the two of them that a pair of scissors might solve. What purpose did two mouths serve? What reason did Ghost have for human anatomy at all, if not for seducing poor women (and men, apparently) to give him what he wanted? And why would something like him want sex, of all things, even if it wasn’t to reproduce?

Nevertheless- morbid curiosity, and the fear of what may happen if he became upset, made her return the gesture. She explored the strange, rough texture of his ‘mask’ with her lips, her body stiff and tense and filled with worry while Ghost pulled her in closer by the fingers he still firmly held her face with- his other hand finding her waist.

He could kill me.

His touch made her recoil with the intrusive thought. This was a bad idea, and she knew that now.

She withdrew with a sharp, frightened gasp, wrenching out of his grip and thinking herself lucky to have gotten away so easily. 

“S’alright,” Price was suddenly at her side, guiding her away from Ghost, keeping an eye on the creature as he put distance between them.

Ghost remained in place, his face turned down towards the floor but otherwise unmoving. As still as ever.

"I can't," she signed, hands shaking. 

“I know, love,” Price assured, pulling her into a comforting embrace. “I know. You tried.”

She couldn't trust Ghost not to harm her any more than she could trust an angry cobra not to strike.

But looking over Price's shoulder, to where Ghost was standing, she could sense his dejection. Shame, even. He hadn't moved an inch, hadn't raised a hand, hadn't bared his teeth or exercised any sort of coercion or aggression. Simply remained, as if inwardly berating himself for this transgression- or as if expecting punishment of some kind.

She felt so sorry for him that her eyes watered…

She kept watching him as Price let her go.

Ghost hadn't even gotten upset when she'd denied him. Hadn't chased. Hadn't done anything to deny her what she felt would make her safe– even though he could read her mind and knew it was bound to happen.

“̛̝̯̞̂͂̕͝I̟̳̗̬̪̪̭̔́̈́̎̾͗'̼̂̇̑̏̐̑͊̚m̖͇̖̦͚̼͍̄̅…̡̧̰̟͕͚̗̤͐̀ ͎̏̐̉̉s̡̛̟̺͍͔̖͇̘̠̓̅͊͑̃…̥͔̲̐͛̔̿̌͑͌͠ô̝̭̱̰̺͂̍r͉̳̫̐̑̓̐̕r͈̅͝y̰̝̟̣͚̬̐̅͊̂ͅ…̢̳̾͒͛́̃”̞̊̄̈́̓̒̀͘͝ ̜̦͚̹́̂͊̾͐̄̾͑̚͜

His physical voice was weak, likely from prolonged lack of use. His body bore scars despite the ability to regenerate. His mannerisms and posture were so cautious, at all times.

Ghost was a strange, mysterious creature whose existence was yet to be explained; but it didn't take a PhD to spot signs of prior violence- and Raven wondered if he’d encountered humans before who might have hurt him simply because they didn't even try to understand him. Saw something not human and decided it was abhorrent.

He'd chosen her and John to obsess over because they'd been careful to attend to his needs- whether it be the lights in the lab that had hurt his eyes, the razor wire that had torn into his flesh, or keeping Graves from ordering euthanization and autopsy. 

They'd cared for him. Protected him. 

And clearly, he'd appreciated it enough to try to endear himself to them. He chose to trust her and John. Chose to lock in on them.

In his own misguided way, Ghost was trying to show them that he loved them. And they had only shown rejection in return, so far.

Raven suddenly felt as though she’d been so cruel to him…

She looked up at Price- and he seemed to know what she was thinking. He usually did. 

Both he and Ghost always knew what was on her mind because they knew her intimately. Never seemed to be jealous of each other for it either. Least of all now that Price was also kept awake at night by Ghost’s persistent advances.

So now there they were: three individuals with shared interests in one other. 

How to proceed…?

John stepped back for her, defaulting to his previous role as a protector- should things go wrong. 

But Raven didn't want to psych herself out again. And some part of her knew that this would turn out fine. She cleared her mind, stepping forward to Ghost again. 

Her hand carefully found his- making his head turn towards her. 

His eyes were so soulful. So human. So full of hurt and pleading to not hurt more. Like a lost child who didn't know how to ask for help.

So she wouldn't treat him like a monster anymore; because he simply wasn’t.

She clutched his larger hand, bringing it close to her chest. To her heart. It was a small gesture, but it was sincere. 

I'm sorry, she thought, pulse pounding- though this time, it wasn't a fear response. I want to try again.

Ghost's eyes softened, and his head bowed slightly- a single, subdued nod that told her he was just as apprehensive as she was.

And with that, she brought his hand to her lips. She kissed the inside of his palm, his fingers cautiously brushing against her cheek again. He may have scared her before because he'd shown so much enthusiasm. She feared she may have taken that out of him.

I'm sorry, she repeated, stepping in closer, her hands moving up to his broad shoulders. I'm sorry… She had to stand on her toes to kiss him at his full height. 

But when their lips met again, he melted into it; returning it with restraint. Muscular arms encircled her waist, this time determined to keep her- now that she would allow it.

Her breath hitched as his ‘mouth’ moved down her jaw, towards her neck. Her eyes turned towards Price, and she saw him observing with interest. Did he like watching…?

Something hot and slick grazed Raven's neck and she froze again. Ghost stiffened as well, seeming to wait for either rejection or authorization. 

Her eyes, slightly panicked, went to Price. 

“It's his tongue,” Price noted, brows furrowed. Despite his morbid fascination with the scene in front of him, he was definitely aroused. That much was clear when he had to adjust himself at the sight of Ghost's weirdly long tongue sliding across the vulnerable flesh of her throat.

Raven realized that meant he'd bared his teeth. Close to her jugular. 

The potential for a quick and horrible death was very present. 

But also, she was choosing to trust him this time. He had, after all, stopped when she did. Given her a chance to back out again.

Go on.

The slippery appendage wrapped slowly around her neck. All the while, the ‘human’ pseudo-mouth pressed kisses along her jawline. Her face flushed as heavy hands traveled over her body, over her clothes, grabbing and pulling and groping at any handful of flesh he could get, like he was getting acquainted with the shape of her.

He'd squeezed at her breast, grabbed at her hips and even got a handful of her ass.

Slowly and reverently getting to finally feel her in their waking hours as if he'd been waiting his whole life for this. 

Jesus, this shouldn't have been as hot as it was.

It was making her weak in the knees, and she realized she'd dug her nails into the musculature of his back when he sharply pulled her hips flush against his– and she felt that he was hard.

Oh, Christ…

Her eyes flicked to Price again, who was hyperfixated on the sight of her being clumsily pawed at by their inhuman admirer. Leaned against a workbench, the rigid outline of his cock straining against the inside of his pants. 

He's enjoying this, she realized, horribly aroused by the attention she was receiving, just as Ghost's hands found their way under her shirt and pulled it up above her breasts. 

The lab was cold. His hands had been wet when he first got them on her. So she had goosebumps on every inch of her skin- and her nipples were stiff bumps under the thin cotton of her unlined bra. Ghost discovered that his fingers could slide underneath the elastic band- so her bra quickly joined her shirt. 

He'd already halfway undressed her, and she had let him, just to see where it would go.

She could hardly believe how much she liked this, breaths leaving her in quick, horny little huffs as his tongue left her neck. He pulled back from her, and she saw the dozens of spiky teeth in his cruel maw just before the tongue slid over her chest, lavishing her nipples, making her shoulders curl in at the sudden twinge of ache between her legs. 

She needed to be fucked before, sure. But now, she needed to be fucked. She felt so empty inside. Hyperaware of her drooling cunt and her clit aching for even a little friction. And Ghost had only gotten to second base. Thorough in his slow exploration.

“He's enjoying.”

Ghost's voice projected confirmation into her mind as he touched her, grabbing fistfuls of her pants and trying to pull them down her hips, stopped by her belt.

She wondered what he'd do- if he could either figure out the belt or simply rip her clothes off- as her gaze lazily turned to John again. 

He had a familiar look of mesmerization on his face. The same look he gave her whenever she was on her knees for him, looking up at him with his cock in her mouth. 

Even Ghost could tell that John liked this. 

He had, after all, orchestrated this. It was either just coincidence that she and John were already seeing each other– or the most perfect pre-established sexual relationship he could possibly insert himself into. A man and a woman and their fishman boyfriend. 

The velcro of her nylon belt tore open, and Ghost suddenly found it much easier to yank her pants down her hips. The force of it tipped her off-balance, and she had to outstretch a hand behind her and lean against a workbench to keep from falling. 

Ghost's hand fit between her thighs, fingers finding her clit and rubbing with the expertise of someone who had fucked her hundreds of times and knew what she liked.

Raven's mouth fell open in a silent cry, covering her mouth purely on reflex as Ghost coated his fingers in her slick like it was a reward, curiously exploring what was previously inaccessible. He'd invaded her mind so much since capture that his touch almost felt like her own. Every move, right on the dot, making her shake with his freakish precision.

The notion crossed her mind that Sierra Golf hadn't actually caught him at all. Instead, he'd willingly surrendered because he'd taken notice of Raven when she'd fallen into the sea. Like he'd caught her.

He'd obsessed over her after she'd submerged. In hindsight, he'd practically surrendered after that.

König had obsessed over Tango after she fell into his enclosure.

Why is that?

Her question went unanswered. Ghost was far too engrossed in his work, two thick fingers finding the tight ring of her entrance and sliding inside. She shuddered when he found her sweet spot and pressed into it, backing into the desk behind her when the arm keeping her from falling started to give out. 

Like she could retreat from this.

His previously cautious demeanor had quickly been replaced by a show of dominance. He stopped touching her just to roughly turn her and bend her over the desk she'd balanced against- making sure she couldn't get away again. She hit the surface with a gasp, her face shoved into a notepad, several pens and highlighters rolling to the floor, the legs of the desk loudly scraping about an inch across the floor.

The front of Ghost’s body pressed against her back, hot against her skin. The rigid length of his cock pulsed against her ass, not yet inside of her, but not for long. 

“Ghost-” Price warned, moving to intervene as soon as Raven hit the desk.

“̙͍̝̯͉̆̕͜D̡̰̻͓̻͗͜͜…̛̤͎͛̄̎o̳̩̘͙̐̔́͜͠͝n̖̣̞̄̇'̦͇̜̪̤͎̑͜t̬̃…̥̘̻̒̂͑ ̢̛̠b̯̱̊͆́̕ȩ̻͓͗̉̋͂̈́͑ͅ…̨̨̡͈̗̭͕̏͆̏͋̑ ̡͎̜͍̙͇̈́͆̇͘ͅs̡̼̎̾̏…̭̤͙̿̚͜s̺͙̖̾̂͒͝͝͠͠c̢͍̹͉̻͂͆̈́̏a̹̱͋͛͗r̳̥͍̊͂e̔͐̄͂̄̾̽ͅd̡̥̞͙̞̹͑̎̃̃̈́͐̈́…̤͙͈̙̙̬͎̒̅͋̆̃͠”̢͍̠̰̰̝͚͛

Ghost’s broken voice offered gentle reassurance as he ran a gentle hand over the curve of Raven's back. 

Her breaths had quickened in the rush of movement, her eyes locked on Price, wordlessly pleading for him to stay close- for safety. For more.

Because this was too exciting for him to only be a spectator.

Ghost reached out for him, inviting him closer.

Maybe he had read her mind– maybe they all had the same thought at the same time… Because John hardly hesitated, moving in closer to the other side of the desk, just as Raven managed to prop herself up on one hand, her other hand gripping his shoulder, both of his cupping either side of her face, their foreheads together as the tip of Ghost’s cock pressed against the opening of her pussy.

Her mouth fell open in a silent moan as he pushed inside of her, her breath stuttering, whole body tensing at the unfamiliar size of his cock filling her to completion, making her his. 

“Doesn't hurt, does it, love?” Price asked against her lips. Their mouths were touching, but not quite kissing.

“No,” she whispered, morbidly excited by the feeling of Ghost’s body pressed up against her ass, the walls of her cunt twitching and clenching involuntarily around him as if giving him a warm welcome.

He was still; powerful hands holding tightly  onto her hips to keep her rooted to the spot, seeming to need to adjust to her too.

All that effort, all that chasing- and he was finally inside her. Savoring her. 

A hand moved up her side, sliding around to her front to squeeze one of her breasts as he pulled back, almost completely out of her- and shoved roughly back inside.

“Fuck-!” Raven hissed, holding tighter onto John as Ghost began to fuck her hard and slow. Striking the exact spot inside her that he'd found with his fingers just moments earlier. Her grip tightened on John's shoulder, her breaths growing fast and heavy- sounds he was familiar with, and already understood meant that she felt good.

“That's our brave girl. Taking it so good,” John murmured encouragement, stealing a little kiss each time the force of Ghost’s thrusts pushed her lips closer to his. 

She didn't know who to focus on- Ghost, who was leaned against her back, the slippery, long tongue of his real mouth slithering possessively around her neck when he started slamming faster into her; or John, who had unzipped his cargo pants at some point and was now slowly stroking his aching cock while kissing her, reveling in her pleasure.

It was all too much- and also enough to make her do anything for more.

A pronounced thrust hit her G-spot so right that her arms gave out and her upper half collapsed onto the desk in orgasm, ragged breaths and gasps pouring from her mouth as Ghost tirelessly fucked her through the seemingly endless high. 

With her cheek on the desk's surface, she was parallel to where John was now frantically running his fist over his cock- now leaned partly over the desk, kissing Ghost himself while the creature kept railing into Raven's body. 

The sight set her off- and she came again quickly, not realizing she'd held her breath until she saw black spots in her vision, the air leaving her lungs in a big, shaky huff, the walls of her cunt squeezing desperately at Ghost in waves.

An inhuman noise left him, his inhuman jaw closing up as if it were never there. His hands tightened around where he'd held onto her body– and she felt his cock throb inside of her as he came.

Filling her. Making his mark on her. Not pulling out until the pulses ceased and he'd thoroughly spent every last drop into his mate's pussy.

John came with a familiar, shuddering moan, his cum running over his fingers, dripping onto the desk near Raven's face.

They'd certainly done something today. 

Time would tell if it made a difference.

“The thing about male anglerfish is that once they find a mate, they exist in a permanent state of sexual parasitism.”

Waltz could hardly absorb any of what Barrera was saying. Too engrossed in thought with her eyes on the razor wire across the top of the tank and wondering if it was really what was keeping Ghost from climbing out.

Price, however, was more interested in the science. “So, by that logic, Ghost might possibly be female?”

“If he followed natural law, sure,” Barrera replied. “But he's shaped like a human male, amphibious, and has a human skull for a face- so he probably isn't female, since he seems to just be doing his own thing. It's just– weird that he has just a handful of mixed sex characteristics.”

Waltz, only vaguely aware of the topic in her daze, wanted to scoff. Of course Ghost was male. The big ass dick between his legs should've been enough to put that argument to rest. 

And if the dreams of him fucking her with it meant anything (and she was starting to really believe they did), then he had the same drive to find a mate. If Ghost and König were both fascinated by human women, then Ghost may have been peacocking, for lack of a better term.

To her. 

And for what? Because she was the only member of the opposite sex allowed to interact with him?

She had zoned out from what Barrera and Price were talking about after that, too far gone to pretend to be interested as she wheeled her chair over to the darkened part of the lab. All she could think about was what Tango said three nights ago- that Ghost might try to get out of the water if she communicated it to him.

She wasn't sure if she believed that, but she might as well try it. Only then would she really believe that he'd somehow gotten inside of her head. 

What's really stopping you? She wondered, staring at the dim, distant glow of him in the darkness. He seemed more interested in visiting her dreams than seeing her in person– maybe because she could ‘speak’ in her dreams.

Fuck, it was like she was starting to want his attention…

“Waltz?”

What the hell was wrong with her?

“Hey, Waltz?”

She turned her head towards the two men, seeing that they were getting out of their seats.

“We’re going for a smoke break,” Barrera said. “You wanna take a break too? Get some air?”

She shook her head. She had no issue being in the lab alone. After all, Ghost hadn’t posed any kind of threat. Not with the razor wire keeping him in. She wasn’t worried. “We’ll be back in a few,” Price told her as they headed for the door. 

And moments later, she was left alone in the lab.

She’d watched the tank like a fucking hawk every day since Ghost was brought in, but this was only the second time she’d ever been alone with him. 

Maybe he hadn’t been so social because of that.

Just you and me now, 'handsome', she thought, leaning back in her seat and crossing her legs, digging her phone out of her pocket and re-connecting to the wifi. Lab B’s was weak, since the router was positioned inside La-

WHACK “Oh, shit-” Waltz hissed, jumping out of her rolling chair on reflex, sending it scraping backwards across the lab floor and nearly falling over in the process. 

Ghost, on the other side of the glass, had his hands and bone forehead pressed against the tank wall. Staring. So close that she could see the whites of his eyes from where she was standing. For the first time since capture, no less.

Her pulse was pounding from just a short burst of adrenaline- and she remembered how terrified she was when she’d fallen off of the boat in open water during his capture. 

How he’d approached her with unknown intent.

How she’d jabbed him with tranquilizer. And while he’d thrashed for a good few seconds, he hadn’t tried to attack her. 

Just stared.

Just like now.

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip as she stared back at him, the memory of his capture now clouded over by the fresher, much more visceral memories of how he touched her in her dreams. 

How the voice she guessed to be his had told her she'd be adored in ways a man couldn't give her.

How she’d believed it so deeply in her heart in the first few minutes after waking and how it always made her feel fluttery and dreamy all the way up until she left her room to go to work.

But even if all of this was something that was really happening to her- why should she give him what he wanted? What goal did he have and what would happen if it was achieved?

That was something she’d have to ask Tango- if she’d have a clear answer.

For all she knew, Tango was fucking König and appeasing him was what reduced the strain of isolating with him…

But that’d be as insane as it was far-fetched and ridiculous.

So Waltz cleared it from her mind and shook her head, striding towards the exit to borrow Lab A’s wifi as intended. 

"̝̗̱̩̭̾́́͠R̬͓̊͌̄̈̀͐͗͂͑ą̲̑́̈́̍v͔̼̲̣̤͚̰͖̙̤͖̲̘̮̊̂̌͐̆̒̊̃̑̎̈́͠ȩ̞͉̥̪̙̩̺̳̼̪̝̐́̄̄͌́̾̒̃ͅn̘͉̥̼̣͇̬̣̋̇̓͝ͅ.̤̱͙͔̠̏̌͋̾́͠.̛̻̫͙̞̞͉̠͙͚͉̗͍̿͗̄̓͋̃̃̈́͆͂̀̚̚͜.̧̳̗͓̜̥̳̘͉͖̦̋̈̂̍̓͒̂ͅ"͚̱̺͕̘͓̘̗̏͆ͅ

She didn’t stop, telling herself that the sound was just her imagination. But it made her move faster, unsteady hand frantically pulling the door open for her to rush out- feeling like a kid who had to flip the light switch off at the bottom of the basement stairs.

She stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind her, breathing a sigh of relief that there was now a barrier between her and the entity in the water that knew her name.

“Fuck,” she breathed, leaning against the heavy steel door of Lab B. Her pulse was throbbing in her ears from just hearing that voice while she was awake- if she even really heard it at all. There was no way. It couldn’t be possible. 

Ghost was immersed. The only way his voice (if he even had one) could be heard is if it was directly transmitted into her brain like fucking telepathy.

… Could he do that?

Sliding her phone into her back pocket, she decided to forget about connecting to wifi, turning and re-entering the code to the door, entering– and covering her mouth as she sucked in a gasp of horror.

On the floor, Ghost, wrapped in the razor wire that had come loose from the tank’s railing, large amounts of his blood spilling freely from the cuts he was making with each agonizing struggle, making pained grunts in a strange, not-quite-human-not-quite-animal voice.

Waltz didn’t know what to do other than to try to help him before he bled out.

She bolted to his side, dropping to her knees in blood and saltwater, trying to hold Ghost still by his shoulders.

Stop, stop! Fuck- stop, you’re killing yourself, you stupid fucking animal! Her frantic mind raced- and for once, she wished he really was able to read her mind. She pulled back from him to take off her jacket and wrap it haphazardly around one of her forearms, reaching to steady him again. He’d stopped thrashing, only now seeming to wheeze and tremble as she tried to use her shielded hand to untangle him. 

With limited progress, she had to use her unprotected hand as well- and she’d only succeeded in slicing through the soft leather and cutting the shit out of both her hands and forearms.

“Just hold still,” she whispered. It barely even mattered if he understood her. It felt like trying to rescue any other animal, or even a hysterical child. “I’ll get you out, just hold still…”

She gritted her teeth as she felt the sharp metal scrape along the length of her forearm along with the sticky, hot moisture of blood inside her shredded jacket– and she hoped against hope that she hadn’t managed to cut her ulnar artery or she’d be as good as dead just trying to save this goddamn fish from himself-

The lab door opened behind her, followed by a few panicked seconds of Price and Barrera hurrying to help both Raven and their, possibly dying, specimen.

“Barrera, call medical,” Price ordered, fishing a multitool out of his back pocket and hurrying to open it up. “Raven, keep him still, I’m cutting the wires.”

Waltz nodded at John’s order, only vaguely registering Barrera speaking on the lab’s comms, not taking her eyes off of Ghost, who had stilled- because now he was watching her blood running up her forearm, dripping off of her elbow and onto the top of her pant leg.

“Of all the times to try to climb out, mate,” Price muttered as he snipped away at the razor wire, freeing Ghost from the tightest sections first- where it was wrapped around his left arm, around his chest, and his right leg. 

To their mutual surprise, Ghost was actually quite cooperative- especially with how Waltz was steadying him, her shaking, bleeding hands still on his shoulders. She wondered if she was losing as much blood as she thought she was- since she was starting to feel a little woozy…

Ghost calmly laid a hand on her shoulder- as if mimicking what she was doing to him, his palm sliding up against the side of her neck- until it was flat against her cheek, blood smearing across her skin and clothes and hair.

And he stared into her eyes, calm, as Price carefully snipped away more sections of wire, nearly freeing him. 

"̡̄Ŗ̧̡̛͓͈̠̹̜̺̰̗͙̀̍͒̐̐͛̈́̚̕͜͠a̡̼̺̯̔̓.̡̡̛͕̗͙̩̗͓͚̗̅͑̌̋͋͗̏̕.̢̙̞̩̭̹̻͍̼͎͂̈́͑̍͑̏̑́͑̔̆̈́̍̚.̬̳͔̠̗̭͐͆́͂̑̒͐̒͛͆̏͆͝v̱̝͉̮͖̥̻̌̕e̦̳̖̱͔͎̹̞̞̦͎̓̈́̂̒͒n̡͉̫̟͖̹̲͇̻͇͑̔͜.̰͇̰̜͖̳̺̜̖̑́̐̒́.̧̩̰͉̱̝͉̯̲̤̑̇̓̑̋̔͆͐́͘̕͠ͅ.̢̡̡̨̛̻̝̞͖̥͔͇̩̻̆̐̽̐̈́̎̃̊̐̾̚͜͝"̨̨̘͖̫̳͉̹̻͎̰̜̞̬͋͂̇̍̂̀͂̚̚

Waltz, Price, and Barrera all went deathly still and silent. If it weren't for the industrial sounds around them, they could've heard a pin drop. 

All eyes were on Waltz- and she suddenly understood that Ghost was only trying to get her attention all this time so he could have this moment with her. Skin against skin, bringing the familiarity of her visions to reality- albeit in the most horrific, gory way possible.

Nonetheless, the softness of the gesture felt good. Loving, even–

“Fuck me,” Price muttered, just as Alex and Farah entered with emergency aid across the lab, whatever words they'd spoken becoming lost among everything else happening. “His bleeding's already stopped.”

-So when his hand left her cheek and all ten of his fingers tightened around her forearms, now free from the razor wire, she was caught off-guard by the horrible burning feeling of her cuts. She tried to pull back from him with a pleading look in her eyes.

Finally, he released her, just as Farah pulled her back by her underarms and slid her across the wet floor to put distance between her and Ghost- while Alex and Barrera helped Price to assess Ghost's rapidly self-closing injuries.

Meanwhile, Farah knelt in front of Waltz on the wet floor, a streak of reddened water trailing to where Waltz was sitting- obscuring her view of Ghost, who was still staring straight at her across their bloodied distance.

“I've got you, Raven, just keep still,” Farah assured, carefully unwrapping the ruined leather jacket from her arm... "What the hell...?"

Finding fresh blood, but no wounds.

Not even a scar.

Now, in the galley with Barrera, the two were stunned by their discovery and needed to take a pause to eat; or else they might never leave the lab that day. There was much more testing to be done before they could call it quits.

Those brief few seconds of observation had played through Waltz’s memory on repeat. 

As soon as the thought of her own name had crossed her mind, she thought she saw Ghost nod.

Once. Just once.

Then his light faded and he vanished- not returning to the glass. And she only knew he’d gone because…

Well, she didn’t really know how. She simply knew. It was as if he’d gotten what he wanted out of the encounter and vanished- because he wasn’t at the glass anymore when Barrera turned one of the light panels back on. The farthest one from the tank. Those would be the only lights that stayed on from here on out.

"Treating the lab like a darkroom might be the best we can get in terms of getting up close and personal to him,” Barrera sighed, idly swirling his straw around his soda. “Maybe what we need is for Ghost to have a little crush on you, huh?" 

Waltz, who already had a weird anxiety about the whole thing that made her unable to stomach more than a few bites of food, shot Barrera a disapproving look from across the table as soon as he'd said it- because the first thing that flashed through her mind was the distress Tango had once been in when König had been outside of the tank, with her in Lab A, without anyone else around for her safety.

'I can't be alone with him anymore. I need security in here with me at all fucking times.'

It saddened Waltz to think that she’d been put in a position to be alone with the creature after that incident anyway. 

Barrera had to have remembered that day too. It wasn't very long ago- just a few weeks, really. But he may have misjudged how worrisome such an occurrence truly was for one lone, unarmed woman to experience. Even if König liked Tango and was relatively docile, he was still a wild animal– and a very large, very imposing pseudo-man. 

"No, you're right, that's a bad idea," Barrera backtracked, looking embarrassed for the suggestion as his eyes lowered to the plate of fries in front of him. "Sorry."

Waltz reached over and patted his arm- a silent assurance that she knew his statement had no negative intent.

Not much else happened in the three weeks after they dimmed the lights in the lab. A period of calm and boredom and lack of progress- the only notable occurrences being Raven’s nightly dreams of being in the tank with Ghost, but not seeing him there either. 

It wasn’t even unsettling anymore, just… dull. 

Pretty lackluster for something that made her so tired during the day.

If it was Ghost speaking to her before, he certainly wasn’t speaking now. But she could feel that he was there with her- like how your internal clock could sense that you only had five minutes of sleep left before an alarm went off.

She woke in the middle of the night every time, holding her breath, in a cold sweat.

This couldn’t be good for her. She might have to go see Alex or Farah at medical if it continued.

Three consecutive weeks worth of these dreams had her feeling sluggish and unfocused. Waltz sometimes had to excuse herself from the lab to go take a quick nap in her room. Barrera welcomed the breaks, so there weren’t any complaints as long as nobody above them found out about it. 

Eventually, Barrera negotiated a secondary security guard to pick up the slack: John Price.

“You look like hell, Rae.”

Waltz nodded, not looking away from the glass wall of the now shaded tank, well aware that she was foggy from poor quality of sleep. Today, she’d almost dropped her phone into a trash can after breakfast because her tired mind told her it was trash. She sarcastically signed ‘thanks’ to John, prompting him to laugh a bit.

“You probably need to take time off-station,” Barrera suggested, once again checking readouts for the tank on his monitor. Temperature, salinity, and filter function, all unchanged. He couldn't figure out why Ghost wasn't making many moves. No one could. “If Graves’ll let you take time off. He denied Tango off-station leave a while back just for the sake of research.”

“Poor girl needed it,” Price noted. “She looked miserable most days. Something about K-001 had her waking early to get to work like she just wanted to get it over with. Not like there's anything better to do ‘round here other than work, anyway.”

He slipped his hand into the pocket of his thermal to pull out his vape pen- given that smoking was prohibited on Sierra Golf. “She must be used to him now. Doesn't look as stressed. Looks like she's sleeping well,” Price continued, then took a hit off the pen.

Waltz nodded. Good, she thought. Eventually I'll get used to Ghost and the dreams will stop. 

As if there was any sort of connection there to begin with. It wasn’t like König or Ghost manufactured communications like that- it was just unconscious thought. The shock value of their existences would eventually wear off.

John exhaled a puff of coffee-scented vapor. “I was starting to get worried, actually. In the beginning, she said she thought he may have been hunting her. And when he started to climb out…”

Barrera exhaled a slow, loud breath through pursed lips, like this new information changed something very suddenly. “Maybe the opposite.”

Both Raven and John looked over at him.

He tapped the back of his pen on his desk. Visibly anxious at what his train of thought had confirmed to him. He looked at them both when he was ready to speak again. “I know people joke about König being head-over-heels for Tango– but what if that really is the case?"

Price and Waltz both simply had nothing to say in return to that. It was an absurd idea that these creatures felt actual attraction to humans. Cross-species breeding wasn’t even possible for creatures that had any sort of drive to reproduce with each other– as all animals do. Sure, some animals in nature mate for pleasure, but-

“There’s-- Ugh- There's something I should tell you, Waltz,” Barrera spoke up again. “But I’m not supposed to. So I need you to keep this to yourself. You can’t tell anyone that you know this. You too, Captain.”

Waltz didn’t like where this may have been going- but was already too invested to agree to anything else. So she nodded. Not like I can tell anyone anyway.

“Sure,” Price agreed. “Won’t leave this lab as long as it’s not a safety risk.”

Barrera stopped tapping his pen. “Waltz, you remember when I said there was an experiment about not letting him see Tango?” She nodded, brows furrowed behind the top rims of her glasses. 

“Well… That was because this test is about him seeing you instead,” he elaborated. “Everyone on the Alfa field team was male. And everyone all the way up to Shepherd knows König imprinted on Tango- so a question came up behind the scenes: what if he was so obsessed with her because she was the first female human he’d ever seen? Both specimens are male- we haven't seen a breeding pair of either type yet, but they really seem to like women. Then it was suggested that we limit Ghost’s exposure to just me, the PhD who has to be there– and you. Now John, also male, obviously; no other women are allowed in on this project for the time being. Because you were the one who caught him, you may be the first he’d ever seen, and so far- he’s only letting you get up close, so…”

Waltz hadn’t realized she’d been giving him a look of disgust until she saw how red his face was getting. 

“Mira,” he said, “It wasn’t my idea. I can’t stress that enough, I know how freaked out Tango was when she was left alone. This came down from Graves.”

Her expression further soured. Of course it was fucking Graves. Graves wasn’t a biologist- or any sort of researcher. He was middle manageþment, more interested in spreadsheets and reports than regulations, safety, or humane practices. He liked getting his ego stroked by Shepherd so he could get more financing.

Price was seething at the notion of Graves deciding the women on-station were being used as bait. “We shouldn’t allow that. There should be someone we can report it to.”

But as much as Waltz agreed, some unshakeable urge in the back of her mind told her to see this research through. To learn everything she could as long as she wasn't in direct danger. Maybe that same urge was why Tango hadn’t quit yet; what pushed her through to, now, feeling better. 

She signed ‘I want to stay on the project’.

Maybe things would turn out fine. Maybe she was the best one for this because she was trained for controlling creatures with sharp teeth and high aggression.

‘What do we do, then?’

Barrera shrugged, knee bouncing again, this time making his chair squeak again. “Hope we have an easier time than Tango?”

She grimaced and wondered if she should tell him about her dream. If it was even relevant to the study. 

Dreams meant nothing in the real world, and she’d had weird, nonsensical ones like these before. Everyone did. So she chalked the little nod Ghost had given her up to being a coincidence. He couldn’t infiltrate her subconscious in her sleep. He couldn’t ask her questions. He couldn’t read her mind. That wasn’t possible.

He couldn’t even stand in direct light. No matter how much he looked and moved like a man, he wasn’t one; and she had to stop thinking about him as being able to reason like one. (How had she even started to? And so quickly?)

It was so easy to forget what Ghost was– or what he wasn’t.

Had Tango’s positive change meant that she’d adapted to König’s obsession with her? 

Maybe used it to her advantage…?

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