#ghostfacerjess

Niall looks over at Zayn, startled, then back at the screen. One of the three – Liam’s – has gone black. “What’s happened?”

“Rift junk,” Louis answers. He sounds a little tense, although Niall wouldn’t be able to tell from looking at his screen – he’s carrying on as though nothing happened. “Got him on the head.”

“He’ll be fine,” Harry adds. “Just keep on with BOPs, we’ll be done soon.”

Sure enough, the mystery projectile is the only interesting thing that comes out of the Rift. Nothing else at all even flickers around the edges. Zayn seems disappointed with it, which has Niall wondering exactly what he was expecting.

“All right,” Harry says once it’s all over. “You can shut down, we should be back soon.”

“Aye-aye,” Zayn answers smoothly, hitting a few keys with his left hand. “Shut-down codes are same as activation.”

“Right.” Niall frowns a moment, trying to remember, then quickly taps in the same three codes. “17-BG16-12… and then with 11… and 07. Does that happen often? With the Rift junk?”

“Happens enough,” Zayn says shortly, the one-handed typing looking even more awkward as he continues. The sling looks like it’s holding him back from what he really wants. “I’ve been hit a few times. If you stick around it’ll happen to you, too. There’s procedure for it.”

He doesn’t want a fight. He really doesn’t. But… “If I stick around?”

Zayn starts visibly, and fixes his eyes on the screen. “Well, um. Yeah.”

“Do you think I’m going to leave?”

“I think… this job is a bit much for some people.”

Don’t get angry. “I worked at UNIT for three years.”

“This isn’t UNIT, though. It’s dangerous.”

“So you don’t think I can handle danger?”

Zayn seems to hesitate, and then at last looks up at Niall. “Not like this.”

Okay, maybe he can let himself get a little angry. “What does that mean?”

“How long have you known Liam?” Zayn asks abruptly, and then immediately ducks his head again.

“This is about Liam?” Niall doesn’t believe this. If this were happening at UNIT – but this isn’t UNIT, he reminds himself fiercely. This is different.

“It’s about you understanding that nothing here is permanent. Especially not people.”

“And you’re hoping I’ll be just another one floating through?”

Zayn jumps up and turns to start pacing, brimming with frustrated energy, and runs a hand through his hair. “This isn’t about you!”

“What did I do to make you hate me?” Niall demands, ignoring a flutter of fear at how confrontational he’s being. He doesn’t want a fight, but that wish is being outweighed in the face of how much he does want answers.

“You shouldn’t even be here.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re not Alex!” Zayn explodes suddenly, whirls around, storms back. Niall gets to his feet automatically: this isn’t peaceful anymore. “Everyone is just adapted to you being here now, and they think you mesh better, and I bet they like you better, but you’re not him. I never got any closure. I never got to say goodbye, I’m not ready for hello.”

“Nobody gives a damn about ready,” Niall retorts, finally unable to keep his temper down. “You need to learn to suck it up. In UNIT, if somebody is burned alive, you can’t let yourself show that you care, or you’re gone. You’re expendable.”

“That’s why you’re not ready,” Zayn says, sounding strangled. “You use your head. We use our hearts.”

“My head tells me this,” Niall answers, leaning in dangerously close. “Alex McCarthy is dead. I’m here now, and you’re too busy being a whining prat to-“

The punch that connects with his mouth sends him reeling backwards. He’s on the floor before he even realizes he’s been hit. There’s a solid crack, and he can feel blood welling up under his tongue. Without even thinking he spits it out on the floor, climbs back to his feet, and surges towards Zayn.

Immediately Niall has a plan of attack – he’d always been good at hand-to-hand. His eyes flit to the arm in the sling, Zayn’s left, his weaker arm. But Niall’s left is his stronger arm.

Quickly, he throws an intentionally fumbling uppercut with his right hand. Zayn pushes it down with his own right, and Niall slams his left fist into Zayn’s right eye.

Zayn staggers back with a small cry of surprise. Tactically speaking, Niall knows he could further incapacitate him, but he doesn’t actually want to damage Zayn.

“Fuck,” Zayn mutters, his good hand clapped over his eye. “You hit hard.”

“So do you,” Niall admits, hoping that the talking means a truce. “I’m going to have a fantastic bruise.”

“And I’m going to have a fantastic black eye. Fuck.”

And it’s really stupid and sort of bad, but Niall can’t stop laughing. “They breed us violent in UNIT.”

Zayn laughs at that. “I guess they do.” He glances over at Jeanette on the autopsy table. “You know,” he says slowly, “there’s something you haven’t considered. For the green people.”

Niall glances over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“You’re assuming it’s some kind of alien animal?”

There’s a moment where he doesn’t understand, and then suddenly he does. “Oh,” he murmurs, suddenly awed with Zayn and what kind of genius it takes to think of this. “Oh, that’s good. A plant.”

Zayn nods, satisfied. “Maybe you can stick around after all."

---- 

“Niall, check up on Liam. Zayn, Louis, hazmat lab, rip this thing up, be careful.” Harry pauses in the door, where he’s one end of a stretcher. “And what the hell have you two been doing?”

Zayn smiles wanly at Harry. “Bonding. You ready, Lou?”

“Whenever you are,” Louis answers easily. “Just let me drop off the stretcher. The Rift junk is in the trunk.”

Zayn slips out the door, and Harry drops his end of the stretcher. “Ready to look?”

“Ready,” Niall answers, moving over to examine Liam.

“You know, when Harry and I say bonding, we usually mean sex,” Louis says as he sets his own end on the ground.

“Although the bruises aren’t normally on our faces,” Harry adds.

“Nope, no sex here,” Niall answers easily, kneeling down by Liam’s head. “We had a deep and moving discussion of our innermost feelings.”

“Complete with deep and moving punches,” Zayn agrees, reappearing in the doorway. There’s a metallic-looking lump in his arms, about the size of a shoebox. “Feels hollow.”

“That’s why we’re breaking it open.” Louis stands to join Zayn. “All right, shouldn’t be long. We’ll be out soon.”

Harry kneels next to Niall and waves a hand without looking up. “Careful.”

“Always,” Zayn agrees, and he and Louis head out.

“Punches, though?” Harry says as soon as they’re out of earshot. “Are you two having problems?”

“Nah.” Niall leans over Liam and spreads his eyelids open. “You know those people who you don’t get along with, and then you fight, and then you’re okay? That’s us.” He picks up a pen-sized flashlight and aims it into Liam’s eye. “Liam, can you hear me?” He switches eyes. “Liam?”

“Mmmmph,” Liam mumbles, to both of his friends’ relief. “Geroff, m’fine.”

“You’re awake,” Harry corrects him. “Not the same thing. You took some Rift junk to the head, you’re back in the Hub.”

“I noticed.” Liam blinks hazily. “Louis? An’ Zayn?”

“Analysing the Rift junk. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three. Ow.”

Niall lowers his three fingers. “You’re good. There’ll be a bruise but no concussion.”

“You have a bruise, too.” Liam props himself up on his elbows, looking concerned. “What happened?”

“He matches Zayn,” Harry says solemnly. “They were bonding.”

“Oh!” Niall jumps up so suddenly he nearly pitches backwards. “That reminds me! I need you both to help me run cell tests on Jeanette and Clark. I think he cracked it!”

“He as in Zayn?” Liam looks at Harry in alarm. “How long have I been out? What’s happening?”

Harry claps Liam on the shoulder. “I have no bloody idea. Let’s go help him.

---- 

“Hazmat suits?”

“Doubt it, should be routine.”

“A routine non-routine procedure?”

“Exactly. Did you hit him first?”

“Yep, and he deserved it. But he was smarter about it. He’s a good strategist. Pass me the pry-bar?”

“Here you go. So you guys are over whatever was up with you? We all saw it.”

“Yeah, we’re fine, we’re good.”

“And bonding is code for punching?”

“Oh yeah, violently. And bloody. You should’ve seen- shit –“

“Zayn, get down-“

---- 

The alarm has always been considered an unfortunately necessary fixture. In the all-metal Hub, a siren had immediately been deemed impractical when first mentionedEven after installation, it was rarely used. But effective, as Niall learns, because he immediately knows something is wrong when it starts blaring during his analysis.

He lets out a yelp as soon as it starts. “What the hell?”

Liam is kind enough to set down his petri dish of skin cells before clapping his hands over his ears. “We need a better siren.”

Harry has gone stock-still and white in the face. “Biohazard alert,” he rasps. “The lab – Zayn and – they –“

“Shit.” Liam leaps out of the medbay and takes off at a run. Niall bolts after him without a second thought, Harry hard on his heels. The three of them literally skid to a halt just before hitting the window to the lab, staring in horror.

The lab is sealed off all around – even the glass has been fortified – but they can still see inside. They can all see the thick cloud of pale green, swirling in the air. And right in the middle, without hazmat suits, looking definitively unhappy, are Zayn and Louis.

“Lou,” Harry chokes, sounding like the word is being wrenched out of him. “Lou.”

“There’s a PA system,” Liam says weakly. “That panel there, we can talk to them-“

Niall almost jumps on the panel in question, throwing a switch and trying to stay calm. He’s been trained for this at UNIT and none of the others have. It’s up to him, isn’t it? “Zayn, Louis, are you two okay? What happened?”

“Kodama,” Louis answers, eyes locked on Harry through the glass. “It’s in the files, I was looking through them before, spreads with spores and poison-“

“What were you thinking?” Harry demands, and Louis falters at the broken note to his voice. “No hazmat, not even masks, after what happened to Alex?”

Zayn flinches visibly at the name. “We’re sealed off, we were ready to risk it, we knew-“

“Kodama poison has a cure,” Louis continues doggedly. “They create it naturally. If we find it, we can use it.”

“Kodama?” Niall says, because that’s the only part of this that he can’t make fit.

“Tree spirit,” Harry explains, at last turning away from Louis. “It’s a Japanese legend. Our kodama is probably an alien, but the lore matches enough that we use the name.”

“And we just need to find it,” Louis insists. “It’ll have some kind of cure. These-“ he waves his hand at the roiling green cloud – “they’re spores. Venom. The kodama will have an antidote.”

“But more importantly, we can find it,” Zayn jumps in. “Jeanette and Clark both got poisoned. They would’ve crossed paths, or gone to the same place on a similar timeframe. Like, say, a few days before death.”

“Okay.” Harry pulls his hands through his hair, trying desperately to think. “Okay. Niall, finish the cell work, cross-reference with kodama. The file is old but it’s there. We need to be sure. I’ll check credit cards and receipts, see if I can find where they might’ve met up. Liam, you’re our go-between for the three of us, and the two of them. I know there’s a foot of glass, but take care of them. And you two – “ he looks at Zayn and Louis. “The spores are less potent, they’re not in your bloodstream, but that’s a lot of exposure. We can’t let you out yet. I’m sorry.”

“Not a problem,” Zayn answers, although his smile has an odd twitch to it. “Someone left a deck of cards in here, we won’t be bored.”

“No strip poker,” Liam says immediately, and Niall whacks him on the arm.

“Move out!” Harry orders. He grabs Niall by the elbow and pulls him away.

Liam leans in closer to the glass. “You two are really okay in there, considering?”

“Shaken,” Louis admits. “But alive.”

Suddenly Liam’s phone buzzes in his pocket. Fishing it out, he frowns at the readout but answers anyways. “Zayn, what are-“

“Shut off the PA,” Zayn cuts him off. “I want to talk alone.”

Liam frowns curiously at the request, but nods and flips the switch off. Inside the lab, Louis dutifully moves to the corner opposite Zayn. It looks like he’s shuffling the deck of cards. Zayn seems to wilt with the distance, and Liam is suddenly afraid of what he’s about to say. “Zayn, we’re going to get you two out of here, I promise.”

“Liam,” Zayn says, “shut up a second, this is important.”

“But-“

“Li. Listen.” And maybe it’s the look on his face or maybe it’s that he says Li, but something makes Liam do exactly that. “If you can only get one of us out of here, it needs to be Louis.”

“What?” Liam stares, aghast – how could he even think of that – but Zayn doesn’t even flinch. “But-“

“But nothing.” Zayn’s voice is totally even, like he thinks this is sane. “He has his friends and his sisters and parents. He has Harry. I don’t even have Alex anymore. Nobody will care.”

“I’ll care. You have me.” How could he have not seen this? How could he let Zayn, of all people, let himself feel like nobody cared? “I’m not going to lose you!”

Zayn just watches him, seeming tired and sad and brave. Unyielding. Like the kiss, Liam thinks, and suddenly he remembers Zayn’s mouth on his, passion and force and something deeper. Something he wonders if he wants to feel again.

“Then get to work,” Zayn says at last. “I’ll die in here before I let him. He’s more important to more people.”

“Zayn-"

“And I swear to God, I won’t let them lose him.

Liam looks at Zayn through his glass. Looks at the set of his mouth and the stone in his eyes and the determination shining off him. Wonders if Zayn has always been so beautiful.

“You’re not dying,” Liam says with finality. “And when you get out, I’m going to thoroughly explain how wrong that point of view is.”

“With tongue, I hope,” Zayn teases halfheartedly.

Liam can hear Niall calling his name, and his lips quirk into a half-smile. “We’ll see about that,” he answers, then snaps his phone shut, turns on his heel, and begins to walk to the medbay.

“What’ve we got?” he asks as he arrives at the entrance.

“A, it’s definitely kodama,” Niall says. He doesn’t look up at Liam, only ever breaking in his furious typing to glance at a vial of blood. “Didn’t show up at first because it’s so old, but it’s there.”

“And B,” Harry continues, typing on another screen, “Jeanette Moore and Clark Jacoby were customers at Velvet Mountain Spa four days before their respective deaths. They both received acupuncture, from one Morgan Guthrie.”

“Acupuncture?” Liam repeats incredulously.

“The scars on their back,” Niall explains, looking up at him. “It poisoned them through the needles, or maybe a claw or something. It dragged the poison through the veins. Neither of them would’ve known it was wrong unless they knew the process.”