#endovelicus

Not for the first time, Endovelicus was glad for the mask he wore. Even if someone could stand to look at his face, they would’ve seen the tension in his jaw as he tried to spot just what it was that he was sensing. 

Normally he’d chalk the feeling down to his own unruly thoughts. It wouldn’t have been the first time that his own imagination had run away from him in a bad way, particularly when Endo was tired or had been hurt. Except, he was fully awake and moderately healthy. And his instincts were telling--no, shouting at him that something was amiss. 

The snapping of fingers pulled his attention to the here and now. A blonde man with sunglasses tangled up in his wavy hair waved once Endo’s mask turned in his direction. “Wow you’re really not here right now, huh?” Agent October--also known by his office nickname of California--cracked an only slightly nervous grin as he (ill-advisedly) leaned back in his rolling chair.

Once upon a time, the only expression on a person’s face when they looked at him would have been fear. That was before a certain someone took him in and decided to trust him. That she hadn’t called yet despite him running off on a mission of his own choosing was only adding fuel to his already hyper aware senses. Endovelicus could sense her in her office just out of sight, and yet...there had been nothing. Except this odd feeling.

He tapped his fingers across the back of his gloved hand, making sure that the bracelet with a stylized sun was still around his wrist. “I’m as here as I ever am.” Came the deep rumble of his reply. 

California rolled his eyes. “Okay and the not vague bullshit answer…?”

Endo didn’t reply for long enough that under normal circumstances, the other man would’ve filled the silence with his own inane chatter. When it didn’t happen, even after a solid minute and a half of waiting, there was nothing else for it. “Something’s weird.”

“I just said--” 

Without even bothering to ask or warn him, Endo telepathically dug around in California’s head for a good metaphor. After a quick moment (and a yelp of surprise from the other man), he found one that he liked best. “It’s like headquarters is a puzzle and someone took two very similar looking pieces and put them in the wrong places.”

The agent held his head like he suddenly developed a migraine. “Fucking--did you need to do that?? My mental walls don’t need more damage.” 

“Yes.” Endo felt himself grin, despite how uneasy he still felt. 

“Fuck you, fuck your insane powers, and fuck your bullshit answers.” California rubbed at his temples with his eyes tightly shut. “I’ll snitch on you to June after we deal with whatever’s bothering you.” 

He didn’t even need to read the man’s mind to know that the threat was an empty one. “Fine.”

Taking his sunglasses out of his hair to place on the bridge of his nose, California finally had a moment to properly sort out what the metaphor had been. “Like a puzzle but with a couple pieces flipped, huh…how come no one else can sense it, though?” He was able to look around just fine, but no one else did the same in their direction. Luck had nothing to do with it. Endovelicus was already quite infamous around the Psychic Assistance Organization. The fact that he had engaged in massive breaches of ethics and etiquette with one of the two people who he listened to meant that no one else was going through the same thing. Or so the other agents hoped.

In response to the question, Endo shrugged. “It’s too high level for them, maybe? People got drugged? Shit’s just weird, and I can’t pinpoint it.”

There was another moment of silence while both men scanned the room. “Too high for me, though?” The agent said in a much quieter tone than his usual one. “I’m not like, a master telepath but I’m not sure if--” He winced as Endo not-so-gently opened up a mental link. “O-kay, yeah, that’s…” Through the link, he could feel and hear California’s reaction as he spoke. His head was pounding with the new sensation and his emotions went from tempered skepticism to alarm instantly. “That’s not good.”

One advantage to having a telepathic link was that neither party could even try to lie to each other. This was also a disadvantage. Endo let his triumph and satisfaction take the forefront of his thoughts, if only to attempt to hide how much worry he had about what he was sensing. “No, it’s not.”

“Think we need to see how hot or cold the sensation is, or…?”

“I’ve been trying.” Frustration mixed with worried anger filled the link between them before Endovelicus cut it off just as easily as he had established it. “It’s just all over.”

Rubbing his fingers against his temples again, California hummed. “Guess we better talk to June, then.” When Endo didn’t reply after about thirty seconds, he continued, “Well okay first you’d better get yelled at by her and then we’d better talk to her.”

“She hasn’t called.” He barely breathed as he said it.

While his eyes were covered by sunglasses, the agent definitely blinked several times. “You’re gonna have to repeat that, I didn’t hear it.”

Barely increasing the volume of his voice, Endo repeated, “She. Hasn’t. Called. Since before I left.”

California lowered his glasses to look over the rims at the masked man. “You’re kidding. She’s more on the ball about keeping an eye on you than even the people above her.”

“Why the fuck would I lie about that?”

“How should I--” The words died in his throat as the door to the largest office opened. June Summers, Director of this particular branch of PAO, exited quickly and locked the door behind her. She didn’t even spare a glance around her as she headed out through the exit. “Oof, maybe you’re more in the doghouse than ever, man. Gonna have to come up with a really good gift to get back in her good graces.” California had a grin on his face, but it died when he laid eyes on Endovelicus. The masked man was frozen in place, statuesque except for the very slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. “What’s up now?”

The deathly white mask slowly turned to look him dead in the eye. Endo spoke slowly and with deadly seriousness.  “That woman is not June Summers.”

With a gulp, California managed to ask, “Well then...who is she? And what’s she doing impersonating our director?”