epidemiology | ( closed ) the sewers strike back

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( closed ) the sewers strike back

CHARACTERS: stiles & the skywalkers
DATE: idk some time after padmé's arrival
WARNINGS: the sewers, possible zombos, who knows
SUMMARY: Local Teenager Forced To Put Up With A Couple Disgustingly In Love, Would Like A Refund

[ it all came down to the scales. finding them in the sewers had been weird (and frankly alarming) enough, but after Anakin had shared his news about the hospital, the connection between the two places was clear as day. of course, they'd already known that "Dr. Percy" had been using the sewers, but this cleared all lingering doubts... as well as posed some new questions. what were the scales? how had they ended up in both the hospital and the sewers?

it seemed like another trip down the sewers was necessary. ]

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[ what a surprise it had been, driving his jeep up to their designated meeting spot, near a manhole cover that would lead them neatly right near where he'd found the scales with Mr. Shadow Lurker and finding that no one was there yet. the surprise, however, had worn off, to be replaced with annoyance mixed with concern, because Anakin was never late.

except now.

... okay, so it is only about ten minutes past the time they'd agreed on, but ten minutes is plenty for someone who Stiles is pretty convinced actually sleeps at the precinct (it's the only explanation, okay, how else does it seem like he's there all the freaking time?). Stiles sighs as he paces, three strides to the left, then a turn, three steps to the right. rinse and repeat. ]

... okay, there's probably a good explanation. Like, a good, optimistic, non-alarming explanation. [ someone would probably laugh at him being worried about an actual jedi, but you know, here we are. ]

[ the non-alarming part may be in question. at least from anakin's perspective.

this is a search long in the works. his findings in the hospital only upgraded the plan from "good idea" to "necessity." their time is running out; anakin feels it closing, pressing ever closer. the desperation only grows more acute with every piece of news received. how many of their number have fallen ill? how many have yet to show symptoms?

the sewers are truly a cesspool of infection. aside from their usual filth, the number of infected slowly losing all contact with reality makes this a dangerous venture. he has gotten lucky. every sample of blood he has provided has been clean. he would not risk anyone else unnecessarily. stiles has proven a good partner and, with his shields and anakin himself, is as safe as he can be.

padmé, only recently arrived, was safer in the house with chihiro. there was plenty to do: data to sort through; angles to analyze; other leads to follow up on. ones that wouldn't necessitate a trip into the fetid waste of the town. he had explained that all to her, sensibly and reasonably ( in his mind. )

he couldn't tell her the truth. that his fear goes beyond concern. that his fear is true terror that he might lose her as he has been promised he will. to explain how he knows means to explain events and people that he does not yet know how to broach with a wife who does not share three years of secret joys and unthinkable losses; three years of struggles and triumphs; three years of marriage.

so anakin swallowed the argument and clenched his jaw shut until his teeth ached. so anakin led the way, unhappy, even as she linked slender arms around his waist and leaned her body into his on the ride there. ( his hand still came to drift over hers, fingers briefly lacing through hers. as much as he despises that she must be here at this time…as much as he wants to destroy that machine for bringing her into this danger — )

they arrive after the accorded time. he knows without looking at his watch. he knows stiles will have questions; it was only meant to be the two of them. instead, anakin climbs off of the motorcycle, and takes padmé's hand to help her. he takes, too, his helmet from her to store. the helmet is not the only thing he gave her to protect her; he insisted on her having a blaster and a charm that would create a barrier around her if necessary. he doesn't see his actions as overprotective; he wishes he could do more. ]

Padmé, [ he begins once they've approached stiles, expression and tone carefully, deliberately even, ] this is Stiles. He's the other of my students. Stiles, Padmé will be joining us on our search.

[It isn't that she doesn't believe the work at the house is important, or that she won't dedicate the rest of her evening sorting through everything that they have, and starting to make sense of it outside of Anakin's unique organizational system. It's that where she excels, where she feels at her strongest, is when she's taking a more proactive approach to resolving a problem.

Perhaps the only saving grace in the whole matter, is that while she's not quite sure how to navigate the relationship with a man who isn't quite the one she married, he seems resigned to the fact as ever, that there isn't any arguing with her. That his (admittedly reasonable) concerns had done nothing more than convince her of the importance of finding that information. That three heads were definitely going to be better than two, and at least with him, she could ascertain his safety just as easily as he could hers.

They hadn't trusted her with this mission, involuntary recruitment or not, so that she could sit idly in a place of relative safety and wring her hands together. Padmé only accepts the literal bubble of safety he provides her in the form of the charm, because she can at least recognize in comparison to him, she is at a disadvantage. Because she won't easily achieve anything, becoming one of the infected. It's simply an acceptable risk.

After all has been as settled as it's going to get, and they arrive- Padmé hadn't quite been sure what she'd been expecting. He looks so young, far too young for this. But then- so did Anakin once- and that hadn't made them any less capable. Unlike her husband, she greets Stiles with a soft smile, and steps forward with her hand extended]

I apologize for my intrusion. [In a manner- she's at least unfailingly polite] And I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.

[ there are many, many scenarios and explanations Stiles manages to come up with during the time he spends waiting and pacing and not-worrying-at-all-what-are-you-even-suggesting, but Anakin arriving with one of the most beautiful women he's even seen in his life in tow is not one of them.

and even if it had been, everything stops when he introduces her.

everything.

honestly, Stiles is quite sure that the entire world just stops spinning for the span of one heartbeat, a heartbeat that his definitely forgets about — before he hastens to shake the offered hand, to remind his face that he's supposed to be smiling instead of gaping at her, because he isn't supposed to know who she is.

(but really? how are you introduced to a diplomatic miracle, a queen and a senator, someone so capable and smart and amazing, without feeling at a loss for words? how. he'd like to know that, thanks.) ]

No, it's fine, totally fine! [ a pause. ] I mean, not the circumstances, those aren't fine. But the intrusion is fine! As in, it's not really intruding — [ god get it together Stiles!! ]

... I mean. If Anakin thinks you're going to be a good help, then he's probably right. [ okay, okay, he's got this. he's got this. glancing at Anakin, eyebrows raised, ]

You didn't say anything before... everything alright? [ there's genuine concern in his tone, though he can imagine why Anakin looks and sounds like he does... Stiles imagines anyone from home sent here with the situation as it is, and he feels ill — and he's not even married to anyone from home. for Anakin, this must suck as much as it's probably the best thing to happen in a long while. ]

It'll be better once we have answers. [ spoken briskly. partly out of a desire not to answer; largely as an attempt to avoid thinking about that answer. they have a mission and a task, which demands their utmost. almost as if a veil drops, anakin retreats behind the detached professionalism of the jedi, the no-nonsense of a general of the grand army of the republic. it would be more convincing were something not blazing in his eyes. ]

We've found signs of someone spending plenty of time down there. Blasters, blankets… The infected in the later stages of infection don't care for anything except feeding, which means it's most likely our doctor. Scales in the hospital match the ones Stiles found, which answers the question of how he's remained uninfected. He's not human, only humanoid.

[ he brings up the photo he had taken of the map found in the hospital. ]

The map isn't detailed, which means we don't know where he's hiding. We've got the general area, but we're largely going in blind. The real risk are the infected. There's no longer any reasoning with them. Knocking them out isn't an option; they eat each other. [ too blunt, perhaps. but stiles and padmé need to be prepared for what they are likely to find even if they are lucky enough not to come upon any of the living. ] We'll move quietly and quickly. Once we're inside, I'll take point. Stiles, with your shield, you'll take rear. We keep together; that's imperative. Any questions?

[Whatever reaction she might have been expecting- surprise, annoyance, resignation perhaps- or a rushed introduction, it isn't quite what she gets. Her brow furrows in slightly bemusement, when Stiles does nothing more than gape at her, open mouthed.

She's just about to wonder if it's the state of her dress- too large for her frame, after all, she'd had to borrow everything from Anakin with no immediate funds or time for shopping on her own, and a sundress wasn't quite something to crawl about in a sewer in. But it isn't really her clothes that hold his focus, and there's something about his face that gives her pause. But no sooner has she tried to suss it out, that it smooths out into a smile, and he shakes her hand.

Whatever she'd thought about it, she puts it out of mind, brow smoothing out and smile widening. She likes him nearly immediately. The way he stumbles over his words, self corrects- it reminds her of something else, and it's fond]

He very often is.

[It's a mild return, because if he'd had his way- she'd been far from this place, whether or not he'd think her capabilities uniquely suited to it. But she's not in the habit of inviting trouble, and instead, allows Anakin to steer the conversation to the task at hand. It's- unsettling. Watching her husband be replaced by a soldier, and one she doesn't know. At this moment, there are no reckless instincts]

No. No questions. [It's too quiet, and the clarification comes after a beat, lest he think it's a denial towards his plans. She had known of course, of the stages of infection, of the most technical signs and symptoms in the brief rundown she'd been given upon her arrival. It's one thing to have facts on paper, and another to confront what she may find, that they'll eat each other without access to another food source. So far removed from whoever they might have been. It does nothing to shake her resolve.

The order makes sense enough sense to her. With the Force, Anakin is better suited to warn them of anything coming towards them, of stopping them before they step too far- and she may not know what sort of shield Stiles has, but he's still more familiar with the terrain than she. After a moment, when there isn't anything further, she steps back farther from the manhole cover, to make removing it possible. Time to go]

[ the bright, still-somewhat-awestruck smile he gives Padmé dies all too soon, chased away by Anakin's words that bring the situation they're in to a sharp focus... all too sharp, really. he flinches when Anakin speaks of the infected, the way they act — yeah, he knows it's true, of course he does. he nearly got eaten by one of them. but even so... it pains him to think of it.

he is less concerned by his mentor's sudden shift to army-like precision and detachment; it isn't like he hasn't seen him like this, before. (the fact that it's something newer to Padmé, of all people, goes without notice; he doesn't even consider they might not share the same memories.)

she doesn't have questions — he, however, does. ] Well, yeah. This isn't exactly a question, but... if he's a humanoid, we have to keep in mind he could be, like, a shapeshifter? Since he can look like Dr. Percy, presumably. So if we see him... he may not look like him. Or a him, for that matter.

[ just to be safe, here... they have to be prepared for everything. after that's said, though, he nods and waits for Padmé to follow after Anakin, after he's done the work with the manhole cover, come on Ani, make the Force work for you!! ]

Possibly. [ it's an option — one he cannot discount considering the existence of shape shifters in his own galaxy, and the more incredible abilities displayed by alastair. but — ]

But we have a good idea of what his real form may be. The scales I found had traces of make-up. Either he's that vain or he needs it to cover up some very non-human traits.

[ anakin spares a glance between them, focusing a second longer than strictly necessary on padmé, to make sure there aren't any further concerns. once he's satisfied, he idly holds out his hand. the manhole cover lifts as if it weighed less than a feather and settles beside them. anakin peers inside…and jumps.

he lands on concrete as easily as if he had hopped down a step rather than several feet. the new flashlight ( the old having been commandeered as a blunt weapon by a dragon queen ) clicks on, illuminating the sorry interior of the damp tunnels. craning his neck, he calls up, ] It's clear! Come on down!

[ preferably by not doing as he did. or do. he might drop stiles, though. ]

[The prospect of a shape shifter is unsettling. If he can make himself look more humanoid, there's the distinct possibility that he's aware of enough of ALASTAIR's agents by now to pass convincingly for them as well, ensuring that if they come across him in the tunnels, they may let him walk right past with no more than an 'I didn't find anything.'. The use of makeup and prostheses, while not much more ideal, would at least reveal him in a scuffle.

As he concentrates on removing the manhole cover, and peering inside- Padmé busies herself with ensuring the blaster she was given is still secured tightly to her hip, and rolling her borrowed pant legs up that much higher. The last thing she wants to do is drop the only weapon that she has on hand, or step on the jeans on the service ladder and fall the rest of the way.

When Anakin gives the all clear, she's careful and slow on her first few steps down, making sure she's judged the distance correctly when she can't see the next rung, even in the darkness. When the service tunnel has left a slight sling of damp across the metal. Once she has, she starts to move down a lot faster. No point in wasting time waiting for her to reach the bottom, before Stiles follows after her.

Once she's judged she's down far enough to avoid being kicked in the head with his taller height, she calls up- careful not to be too loud]

You can follow! Careful, it's slightly slick.

[ another nod, followed by a brief sigh of relief — at least it looks like odds are on their side in this one thing, for once. dealing with a humanoid masquerading as a human... a lot easier, that, than a shapeshifter. and this whole thing will be difficult enough with the infected that haunt the sewers.

watching Padmé adjust her blaster makes Stiles realize that really, out of the three of them... he's really the only one without an actual weapon. sure, he has the taser Anakin insisted he take, and it is better than nothing... but it hardly compares with an actual blaster or the Force.

still, he doesn't have long to dwell on it, as Anakin is there on the street one moment, then down in the sewers the next. ]

... great, [ Stiles mutters, half exasperated, half in awe of how easily he did that, what a show-off!! he waits for Padmé to start making her way down, though not without offering a wry, ] I'll try not to slip and fall down on you.

[ reassuring...

he does as he's told, though, and follows her down. she's right — the metal is slippery, his hands struggling to hold on to them, his feet nearly sliding off from the rungs several times. he must be about halfway through, he thinks, when he calls out, ] So, if I fall, you can, like, suspend me in mid-air, right? [ to Anakin, obviously. pray that he doesn't actually fall... it's looking increasingly likely, though.

(spoilers: he doesn't, though just barely so. when he slips it's four rungs from the ground, and the fall isn't nearly enough to kill him, or even bruise...) ]

I could, [ anakin offers back as wryly. he steps back closer as they descend, attention on them as much as it is on their surroundings. he can't help a sly — ] The question is "will I want to?"

[ as soon as she is within reach, anakin's hand wraps around padmé's waist. he lifts her off the last rungs to set her down gently. his index finger finds a slender line of skin between the caught hem of her borrowed shirt and the jeans. anakin steps away before he's scolded for lack of boundaries again, and his body aches the absence of the warm press of hers against his side.

unfortunately for stiles, this means anakin is further away when stiles does slip. anakin is soon enough next to him, one hand extended, a jape on his lips that belies the flash of concern. ]

You don't have to test everything, you know.

I'm certain you won't. [It's faintly amused, and when she laughs- it's a quick, simple burst of sound that almost surprises her. Feels so foreign, under the circumstances, like she should have forgotten how. But she can't help it, between the two of them]

Anakin.

[It's chiding, and the amusement lingers. Mostly because she knows it isn't true. Her universe is made up of a few simple truths- the sky is blue, and Anakin would never let any harm come to her, or a person under his watch. Not even something as simple as a scrape, if he were within reach to prevent it.

Padmé lets Anakin lift her off the ladder, once she's low enough, without complaint. She's grateful to be off the hazardous surface, and she wipes her hands off on her jeans even as she leans backwards into him. A little more than necessary, because it's dark, because Stiles is more concerned with falling than he is with them- because he doesn't linger, and stolen moments like these are all they have. It is what they signed on for.

She furthers the distance when Anakin moves away, at precisely the right moment, it seems- because it turns out she was wrong. Stiles does fall, and her breath catches in her throat a moment]

Are you alright?

[The concern is the most prevalent- Anakin may have caught him, but he still could have struck the metal rungs below him on the way down, or part of the tunnel. But there's something else, far underneath it.

She will not laugh]

[ Padmé chides — Stiles just rolls his eyes and huffs, because frankly that's about all he expected... and perhaps it's rather purposeful, the way he does not look down, not even one glance, to give them some privacy that neither of them know he knows they need. of course, this is what ends up contributing to him actually losing his footing, the way he determinedly doesn't even watch where he's stepping...

... look, his warning was a true one!! he knows himself, and the day grace of movement was distributed, he must have been late, or just missed the day entirely. ]

Oh my god, [ he mutters, wiping his hand across his face because if there was a checklist for "how to make the worst first impression in the multiverse", he must have just checked off all the boxes. (and no, he wouldn't blame Padmé even if she did laugh.) ]

I'm fine! [ louder, this time, and there's a somewhat grudging edge to his voice when he continues, ] Not everyone can have jedi reflexes or perfect natural grace, okay?

[ someone's got to keep it real here, bring some realism into this whole thing... ]

Let's just go. [ the words may sound sharp, but they're not a product of his momentary embarrassment but rather urgency. ] ... I promise I'll actually stay on my feet this time.

Maybe we should have you in the middle.

[ more humor at stiles' expense aside, however, anakin returns to the task at hand. with a brief — ] This way — [ he turns down the tunnel. pipes run alongside, following them into the gloom. the smell steadily becomes worse until they come upon their first sign of life in the tunnels: blood on the floor and blood on the wall. anakin crouches by it. he takes a sample — test to see if the virus has mutated — and pockets the small plastic bag with it. ]

Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this.

[ a statement which spoken to a different group might have been met with no shit, sherlock or whatever is the cultural equivalent. but present company knows what he means.

the gun, unclipped in its holster since his descent into the sewers, sits now in his grasp. the lightsaber remains, as it always has in woodhurst, at the small of his back. with padmé at his shoulder, anakin is more aware of it than ever. numerous close calls, but he has had no need to draw it yet. hopefully, tonight will not prove to be the exception. ]

As long as you're sure.

[The amusement lingers more than the concern, as with the movements she can see under Anakin's flashlight, Stiles seems to be moving without any hindrance. There appears to be nothing wrong with him, other than dented pride.

Of all the possible things to happen, on a mission such as this, it's one of the better options. So, with one last glance at him, and a soft smile to take the sting out of not exactly taking his word for it, she turns to follow Anakin, keeping tight to his shoulder.

Of course, the moment he says he has a bad feeling about this, she's pulling the blaster from where she'd strapped it at her waist, holding it pointed at the ground for now. She's still hoping that while their excursion will be useful, that she won't have to use it.

But she has enough experience with Jedi by now to know that if one has a bad feeling, danger tends to be a far more immediate crisis than their tone implies. And while she isn't capable of using the Force, this isn't exactly her first time in a situation such as this. Padmé keeps her steps light, avoiding the large deposits of moisture that have gathered on concrete, and keeps her ears strained for anything that might be headed their way.

It's just when they've ventured in far enough, after several long moments, that she starts to smell it, starts to see a few large lumps almost like discarded cloth in the distance, though it's too dark to see anything else. It's a smell that almost hurts the nose, makes her eyes water and fight the urge to place her sleeve against her nose, to avoid gagging on it]

What is that?

[It's a soft hiss- as quiet as she can make it. Just because the shapes don't look as if they're moving, doesn't mean that they won't. Is this, perhaps, what the infected smell like? She asks, mostly, because Anakin is farther ahead, and with the Force, might actually be able to determine the source.

Even harmless, someone beyond saving- it makes her stomach want to turn over, settle something cold and awful in the pit of it. This is a fate she wouldn't want bestowed on anyone]

[ Anakin's words earn a short ha, ha from him, Padmé's smile an answering one, almost despite himself — it's impossible not to be charmed by her, really. for a while, the three travel in silence, until the sharp warning comes; for it's definitely a warning, acute and to be taken seriously.

he has no blaster to reach for, no weapon of any kind. instead, what he does is close his eyes, imagining a shield, pushing it out to cover them from all sides, to protect them from any attacks. he won't be able to maintain it for long, not like this... but perhaps that's just a testament to how much he trusts Anakin to be correct.

the next few minutes pass in more silence, all three as alert as can be — Stiles jumps when Padmé speaks, trying to crane his neck to see what she's talking about.

the instant he does, though, when the flashlight illuminates what's ahead of them, he wishes he hadn't. ]

Oh my god.

[ danger or no danger — he turns around, leans his hands on his knees, tries to breathe and stop breathing at once, the smell making his stomach turn. he has to swallow back the bile in his throat; his eyes remain open, because he knows if he closes them, all he'll see are bodies, countless of bodies, distorted, pieces of them missing, bite-marks all over. ]

[ anakin's mouth settles into a grim line. the furrow of his brow grows more pronounced. he traces the light slowly over their macabre finding. it only shines that which the force has already told him: they're dead.

he looks over his shoulder, eyes taking in stiles' state and padmé's horror. he shouldn't have brought either, but it's too late now and neither would have listened. the reasoning does nothing to make him feel better. ]

Stay with him — [ stay here is what he implores, but he couches it in a request that will make it more likely she will listen. anakin tips his chin in stiles' direction. ] I'll be right back.

[ anakin holsters the gun and removes his lightsaber instead. the weight of it is a familiar comfort. these are all dead, but the marks he can see prove that the living were here too. anakin approaches with caution, one arm thrown over the bottom half of his face, his nose buried in the crook of his elbow. his eyes want to tear from the smell. even with years of training, his stomach threatens to turn.

he crouches by one who bore no signs of infection. perhaps he had been in the early stages; maybe he was never infected. either option is horrifying for their implication: they were killed. this, none of this, is natural. the bodies are organized in piles with more stretching away into the darkness. the ill sensation in the force only gets worse as he comes closer and closer to the realization that the infected could not do this. they lack the capacity.

anakin hears her footsteps, but he does not rise nor turn until after he feels her hand on his shoulder. ]

Percy. [ his voice is low and black as the tunnels. it rumbles from within him born of an older indignation, a blacker rage. ] Percy had to have done this.

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( closed ) the sewers strike back

rebels and writes the actual starter here

look out we got a badass here

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