BLACKBIRD

Chapter Seven

DATE UNCERTAIN

Burning.

His veins were burning. Alight with a foreign kind of fever, it felt as though a hellfire was devouring every inch of his nerves, swilling his blood and boiling the insides of his body. And yet, though he should've felt pain, all he could feel was familiarity, a sense that this was right. That this was meant to be.

"...on, please wake up."

A voice faded into his ears, ringing through his head, enrapturing his thoughts, a melodic sound that eased him by his instincts. It sounded almost like Alana, but it was so incredibly soft and song-like - almost so unnatural - that it couldn't have been her. But he could feel her presence next to him, a sensation that forced his eyes open with a sense of urgency, worrying that she had been hurt (though he couldn't remember by what).

However, the woman that he did see was not Alana but rather a blur of cool bronze skin and silver fabric and crow colored curls. He couldn't discern the details of her face, only able to make out a rounded nose and pointed cheeks, and her eyes... her eyes...

... her...

James came to softly, light gently seeping beneath his eyelids, fluttering them open as he registered the feel of thin cotton beneath his hands. He saw the ceiling first, confusion growing as he recognized the stark white tiles of a hospital. He lifted his head, silently scanning the room he was in, a small yet sterile square area with a rolling table at his left side paired with folding chair, one vent in far left corner next to a perfectly clean pleather chair, a clouded glass window on the wall to his right, illuminated by synthetic light and beside a door of caramel wood, and a medical monitor at his right which emanated a dim, steady beat that echoed through the room. Then he registered he was alone, a sinking feeling that weighed in his chest more than it should have, though not a feeling unfamiliar.

The door to his room unlatched, a soft click announcing the presence of Liam Harris, his silhouette visible through the square of clouded glass alongside that of two others through the window. Liam simply nodded a dull hello, closing the door behind him and moseying over to James' bed side.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

James nodded slowly, taking in the room once more, a sense of unsteadiness befalling him as he realized that he didn't quite know where he was.

"I'm... fine. I feel kind of... disoriented though," James replied, voice turned faint by rasp.

Liam shrugged. "Well, you did grab a vestige."

James froze, a moment of blankness before memories of Kansas swamped his brain, a sudden recalling of the vestige and the burning and the man with the crooked nose. He had seen the man with the crooked nose - but he had also dashed off without Alana, completely leaving his partner behind in his rush to secure the area, breaking one of the very first rules he had been taught in his career.

"Is Alana okay?" James asked meekly, an odd sense of worry dripping into his subconscious, "And the rest of the team?"

"They're okay. She's okay," Liam reassured with a shallow nod, "She hasn't gotten off my back about seeing you, but Alana's fine."

James' eyebrows knitted at that, confusion and minute irritation swirling in an off-putting mingle. Liam, ever observant, read his face with ease.

"She was with you up until we got you back to Langley. We've been keeping her away since then," Liam explained.

The irritation surged instinctually. "Why?" James asked.

Liam sighed then pulled the folding chair away from the rolling table and to the side of the bed where he sat down. His amber eyes met James' hazel and green suddenly, but rather than saying anything, he simply stared in that apathetic, analytical way that James still wasn't quite used to no matter what he told himself.

"Officially, it's because you're under a quarantine until we can figure out all that the vestige did to you, but truthfully, I want to talk to you about something."

The monotonous drawl of Liam's voice drew apprehension from James, his eyes narrowing as he patted down the sense of agitation that threatened to bite at his nerves.

"What?" He asked quietly.

"It's called Project Brooklyn," Liam explained, the amber in his eyes entirely anodyne, "It was something we began when we realized that vestiges could transfer their powers to people. Its goal is to harmoniously combine human and vestige, and hypothesize, observe, and record all that is possible with that combination."

Though James thoughtfully kept his expression neutral, disquiet scratched beneath his skin. "Human experimentation."

Liam sighed lightly, bobbing his head side to side. "That makes it sound worse than it is, but yes, technically. However, it is done with consent and only to those that have the necessary connection with the vestiges to combine."

James wanted to trust Liam with this - no, he should trust Liam with this as the man wasn't just his employer but one of his friends. Not a close friend albeit, but a friend with similar enough experiences to exchange a link of trust. However, James' mind couldn't help but wander back to the conversation he had had with Alana during the car ride to Hutchinson. She didn't trust Liam, not by instinct nor by will.

But why was he choosing the word of a woman still new to him over that of a man he had known for years? She wasn't even CIA, let alone American.

"Who all is in it?" James asked.

"I can't give you a full list of names - not yet - but Nakoma Cadotte is a member," Liam said.

That struck James as odd, his expression crinkling for a second before he caught himself and straightened. Liam had told him and Alana that Nakoma had been returned home safe and sound, cleared from the hospital and reunited with her family. Not implemented into some clandestine government experiment. Though presumably she had agreed, James couldn't ease the agitation that held him at the neck, flinging him into a state of wavering alarm.

"Why did you lie about her?" James asked quietly, a minute, lingering fear of the truth hovering beneath it.

Liam sighed again, that reaction he always had when someone asked him something he didn't want to answer. "To keep her and Project Brooklyn safe. This is happening outside the guise of the Madcap Coalition, which means MI6 can't know, which means Alana can't know - and you can't know any more either unless you agree to join Project Brooklyn."

In any other situation, James would've said yes, unquestionably, unconditionally, but the mistrust Alana had of the man sitting across from him was stuck like gum to his back burner thoughts. No matter how loud his conscious mind screamed at him to agree, to trust Liam because he's never led us wrong before, he couldn't say "I'm in" aloud, his voice damned by the red flags waving at his subconscious. He couldn't speak when he knew somewhere in his explanation, Liam was lying about Project Brooklyn. He was an operative of the CIA after all. It was in his job description to deceive.

"Can I think about it?" James asked, words clear and careful, each one chosen mindfully.

Liam seemed to hesitate, considering his request with a slight tilt of his head and unblinking eyes.

"Sure."

That was all the man said, abruptly standing from his seat the moment the single-syllable word left his mouth. He swept across the room, rounding James' hospital bed with ease, and only stopping once his hand was on the door handle.

"Once the doctors clear you, you're back on duty," Liam said, "Alana doesn't know about this."

And then Liam Harris was gone.