Transhuman, 20/?
Title: Transhuman
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: Garcia-centric, team - gen
Genre: Science-fiction/Drama
Summary: In a dystopian future, hacker Penelope Garcia finds herself being hunted by a corrupt organization. Fearing for her life, she must search for help in the strangest of places.
Chapter Twenty
JJ passed out the chipped mugs of coffee - black, because there was no milk anywhere in the place, and the sugar was weevil infested.
‘That’s just extra protein,’ joked Kevin, but no-one was really in a laughing mood. They were all tired, and hungry, and confused, but there was no end in sight. They just had to keep on fighting.
There was canned food, most of it about as appetizing as killing and cooking one of the half dozen rats they’d scared out of the apartment, but they all needed to keep their strength up.
There were a few minutes of silence, as they all let the situation wash over them, though Morgan didn’t need words to know what they were all thinking. He’d been in the business long enough to be able to read body language pretty well.
Hotch was stoic, but Morgan had learned long ago not to confuse that with emotionless. Kevin and Garcia were both cautiously cheerful - they’d been living this kind of life for much longer than everyone else. JJ and Spencer were both a little on edge; by contrast, they were new to the whole “being on the run” business. JJ had worked with the resistance, but it was only recently that she had become a part of the resistance. Emily had positioned herself away from the rest of the group, her eyes cast downwards, as though she was afraid of being judged by them.
‘Hey, Montana,’ Morgan said. ‘Your bandage is leaking.’
She brushed a hand across the head wound, grimacing slightly. ‘I guess it does need stitches.’ She set her untouched coffee on the small table, and pulled the first aid kit out of her backpack once more. Her hands were shaking.
‘Are you alright?’ Morgan frowned. Her skin was starting to look clammy, and he thought he saw a slight shiver ripple through her. She nodded, and then shook her head.
‘I don’t know.’ She gave a violent lurch suddenly, knocking the bag and the first aid kit aside. Morgan managed to catch her before she fell to the floor, but couldn’t do a damn thing about the vomiting.
‘Someone get me a bucket, or something,’ he called out, unsure if they would find anything in a place like this. It was designed for hiding, not for long-term living. Garcia did managed to find a bucket, passing it over to him, but by that point, Emily was mostly dry retching.
‘Is this because of the concussion?’ he asked, not really caring who answered.
‘Symptoms of a concussion include dizziness, nausea, lack of motor co-ordination, difficulty balancing, light sensitivity, blurred vision and tinnitus,’ Spencer provided, sounding almost like an encyclopedia. ‘The only way to treat it is with rest.’
Morgan gave Hotch a look. ‘I think we all need a rest.’ He let his hand rub across Emily’s back, unconsciously. ‘We won’t be able to do anything if we’re running dead on our feet.’
Hotch nodded in agreement. ‘I don’t know how safe we are here, but I think it’s pretty well established that we’re not safe anywhere.’
There were two decent sized beds in the place, with a selection of lumpy pillows and thinning blankets in the closet. and Kevin started getting the beds ready, while Hotch checked the perimeter and JJ went off in search of something to clean up the mess on the floor - the smell was bad enough without adding vomit to the mix.
Bottle of water in her hand, Emily kept still as Morgan cleaned her head wound once more, her teeth catching against her lip.
‘So…’ he said, conversationally. ‘You grow up in north of the river, your mother’s a Corp hotshot. Why risk everything to help me?’
Emily bit back a laugh, the sound turning into a groan at the exertion on her ribs. ‘Because when you grow up in the care of a “Corp hotshot” you see a lot of things that most other people don’t see. They’re happy to go on ignoring things because it’s not their problem. That’s true both sides of the river. Some things you just can’t ignore.’ She gave a wan smile at that, and Morgan figured that her assessment did pretty well at describing everybody’s situation.
Grabbing a pair of sweatpants from her bag, Emily excused herself to the small, dingy bathroom, leaving Morgan alone in the living area. Not for long though.
‘Hey,’ Garcia greeted him. ‘Hotch says he’s going to take first watch, so you get to bed with Spencer and Kevin. Sorry if that hurts your macho man reputation.’
‘I’ve suffered through worse,’ he replied.
‘You and Montana, is that…’ she started, and Morgan frowned as he realized what she was asking.
‘Montana is someone that helped the resistance out a lot,’ he told her. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be personal, but I guess you could say we kind of built up a friendship. I don’t think this is the time for any of us to be getting involved in complicated relationships. There’s too much at stake.’
Garcia didn’t seem wholly satisfied at the answer, but if she had any nagging doubts, she didn’t bring them up.
Morgan stepped outside into the hallway, finding Hotch scanning with both his eyes and his gun. ‘No obvious security threats,’ he said. ‘But then, this is the slums.’ There was a moment of silence, before Hotch asked. ‘So what happened at the meet?’
‘They had a fake show up. He was about to start shooting when Emily shot him. They caught her and tried to ambush us, but she got away.’
Hotch didn’t say anything for a few seconds. ‘That could have been orchestrated to gain your trust.’
‘I know,’ Morgan conceded. ‘I’m not saying I trust her. But…Elle helped her escape.’
The other man straightened at that revelation.
‘I think…I think we might have been a little over reactive about her defection. I think they might have brainwashed her.’
‘It’s a big leap to make,’ argued Hotch.
‘I’m not saying we should drop everything and welcome her back with open arms. I’m saying there’s a lot going on that we don’t even know the beginning of.’
Hotch made a grunt of agreement. ‘You should get some sleep.’
Morgan nodded. ‘Wake me up in a few so you can get some sleep,’ he said, trying not to make it an order. He was pretty sure that left to his own devices, Hotch would probably undertake all of sentry duty by himself, which wasn’t particularly optimal.
The next few days were going to be hell.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: Garcia-centric, team - gen
Genre: Science-fiction/Drama
Summary: In a dystopian future, hacker Penelope Garcia finds herself being hunted by a corrupt organization. Fearing for her life, she must search for help in the strangest of places.
Chapter Twenty
JJ passed out the chipped mugs of coffee - black, because there was no milk anywhere in the place, and the sugar was weevil infested.
‘That’s just extra protein,’ joked Kevin, but no-one was really in a laughing mood. They were all tired, and hungry, and confused, but there was no end in sight. They just had to keep on fighting.
There was canned food, most of it about as appetizing as killing and cooking one of the half dozen rats they’d scared out of the apartment, but they all needed to keep their strength up.
There were a few minutes of silence, as they all let the situation wash over them, though Morgan didn’t need words to know what they were all thinking. He’d been in the business long enough to be able to read body language pretty well.
Hotch was stoic, but Morgan had learned long ago not to confuse that with emotionless. Kevin and Garcia were both cautiously cheerful - they’d been living this kind of life for much longer than everyone else. JJ and Spencer were both a little on edge; by contrast, they were new to the whole “being on the run” business. JJ had worked with the resistance, but it was only recently that she had become a part of the resistance. Emily had positioned herself away from the rest of the group, her eyes cast downwards, as though she was afraid of being judged by them.
‘Hey, Montana,’ Morgan said. ‘Your bandage is leaking.’
She brushed a hand across the head wound, grimacing slightly. ‘I guess it does need stitches.’ She set her untouched coffee on the small table, and pulled the first aid kit out of her backpack once more. Her hands were shaking.
‘Are you alright?’ Morgan frowned. Her skin was starting to look clammy, and he thought he saw a slight shiver ripple through her. She nodded, and then shook her head.
‘I don’t know.’ She gave a violent lurch suddenly, knocking the bag and the first aid kit aside. Morgan managed to catch her before she fell to the floor, but couldn’t do a damn thing about the vomiting.
‘Someone get me a bucket, or something,’ he called out, unsure if they would find anything in a place like this. It was designed for hiding, not for long-term living. Garcia did managed to find a bucket, passing it over to him, but by that point, Emily was mostly dry retching.
‘Is this because of the concussion?’ he asked, not really caring who answered.
‘Symptoms of a concussion include dizziness, nausea, lack of motor co-ordination, difficulty balancing, light sensitivity, blurred vision and tinnitus,’ Spencer provided, sounding almost like an encyclopedia. ‘The only way to treat it is with rest.’
Morgan gave Hotch a look. ‘I think we all need a rest.’ He let his hand rub across Emily’s back, unconsciously. ‘We won’t be able to do anything if we’re running dead on our feet.’
Hotch nodded in agreement. ‘I don’t know how safe we are here, but I think it’s pretty well established that we’re not safe anywhere.’
There were two decent sized beds in the place, with a selection of lumpy pillows and thinning blankets in the closet. and Kevin started getting the beds ready, while Hotch checked the perimeter and JJ went off in search of something to clean up the mess on the floor - the smell was bad enough without adding vomit to the mix.
Bottle of water in her hand, Emily kept still as Morgan cleaned her head wound once more, her teeth catching against her lip.
‘So…’ he said, conversationally. ‘You grow up in north of the river, your mother’s a Corp hotshot. Why risk everything to help me?’
Emily bit back a laugh, the sound turning into a groan at the exertion on her ribs. ‘Because when you grow up in the care of a “Corp hotshot” you see a lot of things that most other people don’t see. They’re happy to go on ignoring things because it’s not their problem. That’s true both sides of the river. Some things you just can’t ignore.’ She gave a wan smile at that, and Morgan figured that her assessment did pretty well at describing everybody’s situation.
Grabbing a pair of sweatpants from her bag, Emily excused herself to the small, dingy bathroom, leaving Morgan alone in the living area. Not for long though.
‘Hey,’ Garcia greeted him. ‘Hotch says he’s going to take first watch, so you get to bed with Spencer and Kevin. Sorry if that hurts your macho man reputation.’
‘I’ve suffered through worse,’ he replied.
‘You and Montana, is that…’ she started, and Morgan frowned as he realized what she was asking.
‘Montana is someone that helped the resistance out a lot,’ he told her. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be personal, but I guess you could say we kind of built up a friendship. I don’t think this is the time for any of us to be getting involved in complicated relationships. There’s too much at stake.’
Garcia didn’t seem wholly satisfied at the answer, but if she had any nagging doubts, she didn’t bring them up.
Morgan stepped outside into the hallway, finding Hotch scanning with both his eyes and his gun. ‘No obvious security threats,’ he said. ‘But then, this is the slums.’ There was a moment of silence, before Hotch asked. ‘So what happened at the meet?’
‘They had a fake show up. He was about to start shooting when Emily shot him. They caught her and tried to ambush us, but she got away.’
Hotch didn’t say anything for a few seconds. ‘That could have been orchestrated to gain your trust.’
‘I know,’ Morgan conceded. ‘I’m not saying I trust her. But…Elle helped her escape.’
The other man straightened at that revelation.
‘I think…I think we might have been a little over reactive about her defection. I think they might have brainwashed her.’
‘It’s a big leap to make,’ argued Hotch.
‘I’m not saying we should drop everything and welcome her back with open arms. I’m saying there’s a lot going on that we don’t even know the beginning of.’
Hotch made a grunt of agreement. ‘You should get some sleep.’
Morgan nodded. ‘Wake me up in a few so you can get some sleep,’ he said, trying not to make it an order. He was pretty sure that left to his own devices, Hotch would probably undertake all of sentry duty by himself, which wasn’t particularly optimal.
The next few days were going to be hell.