#truth fic

Case  #X-08212013-5: Sedona Abduction Incident

Sedona was beautiful, even Michael had to admit that. Dramatic, blood-red towers of rock that loomed large over the plains and looked so distinctly alien that it was honestly no wonder that people thought of it as a hotspot for all sorts of paranormal activity. 

“... they’re underground, you see.” 

Michael blinked, turning from the display of copper and turquoise bracelets he’d been eyeing, thinking one of them might suit Maria, back to the clerk. A woman with a mohawk, wearing a grey t-shirt with the grocery store’s logo on it. “Sorry?” 

“The aliens,” she repeated. “They come through the stargate, over at Cathedral Rock. And then they go underground.”

Honestly, Michael wouldn’t mind living here if it weren’t for all the tourists and believers. 

“Why do they do that again?” Alex asked, with a grin at Michael, clearly enjoying his pain. 

“Oh, it’s a lot safer. Precious few people in this world are ready to share it, even with enlightened beings.” 

Michael smirked. Well, she was getting that bit right, anyway. “So why come to Sedona in the first place? Your world-class booze selection?” 

She laughed. “Well, that probably helps. But the energies here are my guess. There’s only a few places on Earth as powerful.” She dropped her voice, “I think they need the power source.”

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Co-written with @ladynox

Eastern New Mexico University - Roswell

The door shut behind Alex and Maria. Max appreciated that Maria somehow had managed to keep herself from slamming it shut.

Sheriff Taylor had been cool as a damn cucumber while they had read her the riot act over calling ICE and potentially ruining their investigation. 

Taylor, less than chastised, leaned back in her chair, sucking her teeth in irritation. “Fucking feds. Can’t be bothered to inform the lowly local PD but they’ve got no issue using the sheriff department’s resources as they see fit,” she said through gritted teeth, glaring at their retreating backs through the glass of her office door. 

Max understood her anger. He’d been there when the FBI had swept in, taken over their work for a RICO case and gotten whatever recognition their department would have gotten for it. None of them really liked the FBI. But Max would never sabotage an investigation out of spite. 

And he would never be such an asshole as to call ICE on people just trying to make a decent living.

Max clenched his jaw on that. Fighting to keep it in. Taylor might be angry, but he was furious.

“You got anything to say for yourself, Evans?” Taylor said.

Co-authored with @ladynox

Person of Interest #00-300497: Antonio Mejia

Another day, another dead body.

Unfortunately, today it was another dead human body.

Only this one was worse than the last one. The mold had spread farther out, covering where the latest victim lay sprawled over the bales of hay. While looking at it, Liz was reminded of phlegm, the mold a sickly green-ish yellow color that spread along the body, the ground, a stall and parts of the wall. But the most disturbing part were the stalks that grew from his open mouth, slim and fleshy, brown caps not quite unfurled. 

“You said the victim had a relationship with Antonio Mejia?” Max asked, still looking just a little green. They’d shut the barn doors, to keep out prying eyes. But it seemed Max, like her, couldn’t get the image out of her head.  

Nothing Liz had ever encountered had prepared her for this. 

“Eladio Mejia. Antonio is… was his cousin,” a tall, thin, grizzled old rancher named Frank said, holding a grimy bandana tightly to his face, even though they were well away from the body.

“Close enough to be helping him?” Kyle asked, frowning in the direction of the barn. 

“Yeah,” Frank said. “They were close. Grew up together back in Jalisco. Sometimes Antonio would come with beer and they would talk the night through about nonsense. Girls usually.” He paused, looking stricken. “Good kids.” 

“So you knew Antonio well?” Max asked, pressing a little. 

“Well enough to know that he…” Frank trailed off, shaking his head. “Locals are saying he did this to Eladio and to some girl. Calling him a murderer. Chupacabra. That can’t be true.” 

Co-written with @ladynox

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Addendum to Case #X-09212033-1: [File Not Found]

….Scientists assumed that the spread was due to human travel, but when they sequenced the cases, they were surprised to find that these strains weren’t closely related at all. Instead, scientists were seeing multiple, independent infections of an unknown fungal disease, emerging around the world, all at the same time. About a third of people infected with Candida auris die from the infection within 30 days, and there have now been thousands of cases in 47 countries. Some scientists think this sudden boom in global cases is a harbinger of things to come.

“Working hard?” Alex’s voice cut into Michael’s concentration.

He looked up from the article he’d been reading on his phone while he waited for them to get back from the bar, and he couldn’t help but smile. Appreciating Maria and Alex. Really appreciating them, out in the afternoon sun, instead of the dank old cave from earlier.

Apart from pajamas, he rarely ever got to see them out of their dark suits or drab FBI windbreakers. But today they were positively colorful. Maria in an orange blouse that cinched at the waist, and a pair of blue jeans that hugged all her curves. Alex in a golden yellow cotton shirt and dark washed jeans. He liked to roll the cuffs, Michael noted. It was cute, something a bit young and carefree about it.

“No. Not everything I read is about stupid work,” he said lightly.

“I’m surprised you’re not enjoying the view more,” Maria teased, handing him a drink.

“Who says I’m not?” He let his eyes flick over them both, in naked appreciation. 

Maria giggled, tossing her hair just a bit. Clearly flustered, in a good way. Michael grinned. The weather was gorgeous and the view from the verandah of the hedge maze and hills beyond was great but it was getting to see Maria and Alex in a relaxed setting that was really enjoyable. 

Co-written with @ladynox

Case  #X-09212194-6: Chavez County Chupacabra Incident

“Cuando…ah, cuando paso?” Max grimaced, pulling his Stetson off his head and wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. Fuck, it was hot. And there was no cover for miles. It was just Max in the middle of a deserted pasture with the witness, the vic and the unforgiving sun. “Casi dos horas,” said the witness, lifting two fingers up. Isidro Buente, a ranch hand, an older man in light grey shirt and his own stetson. His eyes darted between Max and anywhere but the vic. But it was hard not to look at her. 

Max stared down at the body of a young woman. Maybe twenty or so, he guessed. Though he couldn’t be sure about that. Her features were withered and obscured by what looked like mold, covering her body and feathering out over the grass.  

“No…” Max paused, working out his question, reigning in his frustration with himself. He usually felt like he had a pretty good grasp on Spanish, but it was a lot harder during an investigation. “I mean yes...Si. Estabas sola con Antonio para cuantos minutos?” 

Antonio Mejia was the last person to see Fior Dorantes alive. And now here was Fior, dead. Antonio, nowhere to be found. 

“Nandamas diez minutos,” Mr. Buente started, uncomfortable, nervous. Not at all happy to be talking to a cop. Max listened, nodding encouragingly. 

Fior had only been gone for ten minutes. She had run off after her boyfriend, wanting to speak to him. Or no, not her boyfriend. Antonio was someone she liked. There had been an argument. They were going to talk in private. Then there had been a scream and when Mr. Buente and a few others had come to investigate, they had found Fior dead. Unrecognizable, save for her clothes. 

Feeling completely at a loss as to how to approach this investigation, Max turned to Mr. Buente, asking if he’d ever seen anything like this before. Might as well. He was pretty sure the Roswell coroner’s office wouldn’t have the first clue where to start with this…. Whatever the hell this was.

Mr. Buente looked furtive for a moment, glancing out over the field. “...los chivos.”

Max frowned, confused. “The goats?”  

Mr. Buente nodded, suddenly animated. He still looked frightened but he clearly seemed to want to get this story out. The speed at which he spoke made it a little hard for Max to follow. But he was able to piece the story together. Apparently they’d lost twelve goats over the last couple of weeks. Same MO. The others in the community attributing the strange deaths to what Mr. Buente scoffingly called  “El Chupacabra.” But even though he clearly had no patience for superstitious nonsense, he said as much, he still looked down at Fior’s body, unsure.  Max blinked, biting back a laugh. “Seriously?” Oh, Michael was going to get a kick out of that.

Co-authored with @ladynox

So anyway, I'm finishing up writing it right now, and it's a culmination of a lot of little sciency hints that we've pulled on throughout the fic so far. and I am excite for @thesquidkid in particular to read it because if it hits the way I want it to, this will be me:

---

“Your dog is adorable,” a voice broke into her concentration. Accented, feminine. Isobel swallowed hurriedly, turning to look at the owner.  

The woman sitting next to her. Smooth dark skin and long braids cascading down her slim shoulders. Coal lined eyes bright and red lips smiling at Isobel. 

Oh wow, Isobel thought, she’s pretty.

“Can I pet her?” the woman asked and it took Isobel’s brain a moment to get her brain working.

“Oh yes! Of course!” 

@ladynox and I spent most of today hammering out details of chapters 33-34 of Truth, and this, by far, is my favorite bit of 33 <3

“Give me my fucking food, Alex,” Flint growled.

“What did you get?” Alex asked, peeking in the bag, and digging out some fries, popping them in his mouth. “Alex.” Flint half-heartedly grabbed at the bag. “I don’t know why you insist on being a black sheep pain in the ass,” he growled, sulky as Alex held it away. 

“Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life,” Alex retorted, sitting down on a bus stop bench. “We’re gonna share these damn fries and you’re gonna talk to me.” 

Alex stared at Flint challengingly but he was holding his breath, hoping his gambit would pay off. Flint could just as easily walk away. There really wasn’t much of a reason for him not to.