On a String [closed]

[Dr. James Campbell]

It was a good day.

If James could whistle, he would have been whistling right about then. Actually, probably not, because the sound irritated him excessively. But maybe humming? Yes, James could have hummed, if he had thought of it. He would have hummed something pleasant as he sat at his desk, looking over some reports from his recruiters.

Part of his job involved keeping in touch with families, and letting them know that their child was doing well with their training. Yes, that meant he sometimes had to be the one nagging students to call their respective mothers, but he didn't really mind doing that. He know what it felt like to have Ginny call him regularly, and he wanted other parents to feel the same way.

And in other cases, he reported families to to the child services department of their state for neglect or abuse. It made him ill to think of children--children--suffering because their families thought they were freaks. Perhaps having grown up as he did, surrounded by a big, loving family, James had a slightly skewed perspective on filial relationships. Not everyone was going to be as close as the Campbells (No matter how hard they tried) so he should stop judging everyone else's family against them.

Luckily, today he had only had to deal with people who loved and missed their children, while still wanting the best for them and being supportive of their powers. What could be better than that? Oh, yes, having a happy family and not having an enormous secret hanging over his head, and having had waffles that morning.

So James concentrated on his work, spinning a pen between his fingers and smiling.

[Gabriel Underwood]

Gabriel was a snake. A serpant. A thief of happiness and a saboteur.

His morning, however, was just as sunshiney as James'. There were no waffles, instead, thick rashers of bacon, french toast, scrambled egg and coffee. There was no family, instead, organisation members and his beloved dogs, snuggled on him as he prepared himself for the day. But Gabriel Underwood had a plan, and it was one of his better ones, as far as he was concerned. Sure, that incident with the boat in South Korea had also been a rather fantastic plan, but this really took the gold medal in unpleasently incredible plots. In fact, as he buttoned his suit, he had a smirk on his face, eyes slightly slitted as the smile reached higher. Oh yes, Gabriel was in a good mood.

But this was not a day for flashiness. As he pocketted a set of car keys and headed to the large garage, he picked a surprisingly plain car. It was neither expensive looking, nor caught the attention of any he drove past. In fact, even as he pulled into the Hammel car park and began to set this little plan up, no one seemed even half interested in the little runaround car.

Swinging round into the backseat, and reaching for a pair of binoculars, Gabriel began to scan the windows of the Institute. He knew who he was looking for, and though a map sat on his lap, he had a little trouble finding the poor soul he was about to completely use for a few hours. Turning the dial on the top of the binoculars, he eventually homed in on a strangely familiar face. James Campbell, Head Recruiter of Hammel, and previous classmate to himself. It was at this point that the man had to check the windows of the car were dirty enough to make seeing inside difficult, and he glanced around with the same confident smirk on his face. Sure enough, the car was gloomy on the inside, and this suited Gabriel a great deal. His stealth mission could begin.

Raising the binoculars to his face again, Gabriel peered up through them into James' office once more. He stared at the man impassively for a few minutes, then chuckled low in his throat, took a deep breath, and threw his consciousness forward, into the recruiter's mind. The sensation was uncomfortable for a moment, as his thoughts whizzed through the air, unconstrained by his body, but then they landed, target reached.

I suggest you let me in. Gabriel thought, pushing James' current thoughts, feelings, and emotions, to the back of his mind. It was irritating, the recruiter clearly had a handle on his own consciousness. Much like stuffing an extra sock into an over full suitcase, the man eventually gained control, and slammed the "suitcase" shut.

Now, we're going to have some fun.

[Dr. James Campbell]

James had long since known that he was susceptible to mental suggestions. It was as if his mind was overtaxed, with all the extra signals his perception abilities sent to it. He just picked things up, where his mind tried to file them away, like he organized everything else. But that left him open, vulnerable. And though he knew he should have been practicing his mental blocking (something that wouldn't come as easily as it did to say, Chase) for the past four years he'd just opened up, letting his partner into his head whenever, trusting him not to abuse that.

So when he heard, no, felt the sinister thought, he tried to fight. James dug in his thoughts and tried to hold on, but it seemed like only a moment before he was...locked?

What the fuck just happened?

James tried to push his way out with his thoughts, but it was like everything was cloudy and dark. Was this how normal people saw the world? It was so disjointed... it was as if he knew he could see and hear and touch, but his body wasn't sending the signals to his brain. And for someone who had seen the world with such clarity for the past thirty years, this was terrifying.

What are you doing to me?"

[Gabriel Underwood]

Gabriel had very little experience with James' particular power. He knew what it was from quietly quizzing his tutors when he was younger, but as for a body to puppet? This was complicated and unusual. Moving the fist that wasn't his, the man looked around and surveyed the office. It was tidy, and for some reason, this pleased him more than usual. Glancing down on the desk, he gave himself a few moments to settle in, before cracking his knuckles and getting to work.

What am I doing? I'm afraid that's none of your business. The man thought to James' unhappy voice in the back of his head, turning the chair round to the computer on the desk and flicking lazily through files. He knew what he was after, yes, and it took him a while to locate the large database he'd been searching for. Potential Meta-Humans. Double clicking and chuckling darkly to himself - a sound that was strange coming from James' mouth - Gabriel flicked through the people, eyeing down the list. This was like Christmas come early, truly. Moving the mouse up to click print, Gabriel spun on the chair, folding his arms behind his head.

James' memories occasionally flicked across the surface of his mind, which irritated him. Shaking his head as if to clear the thoughts away, Gabriel folded up the printed paper, pocketted it, then rose out of the office and out towards that car. But there was something the man hadn't counted on; how James' power affected everything around him. And GOD wasn't the corridor wonky? There was a slight skew on one of the picture frames, and a part of the carpet was a darker colour than the rest of it. The staircase had a chip out the bannister, and everything felt chaotic. He could FEEL his hands twitching to change everything, right the picture, clean the carpet, do SOMETHING with that damn bannister.

"Fuck." Said Gabriel softly, moving his hands into fists for a moment. "Stay in control." He added, pushing through the corridor and downstairs, through the corridor and down through the students. So many students. The man had to make sure he didn't smirk as he looked at all that miniature potential buzzing all around him. But now he had another idea (if he could just ignore that lump of chewing gum glaring at him from the wall) and he frisked himself for his phone, pulling it out as if he had a call, and answered, making up some inventive dialog in front of the children.

"What? They attacked?" He said in fake disbelief, noticing a few children paying attention out the corner of his eye. "But she was only 14! Is she okay?" Pushing James' floppy hair out of his face, he paced slightly, ever the actor. "I can't believe those hu- ... people would do that. Okay. I'll be there. Bye." Closing the phone and watching the children look shocked and start asking questions, Gabriel had to hide the biggest crocodile smile from his face. Continuing on his journey, he reached that same, bland little car and circled for a moment, before pushing that same folded paper through a tiny slit in the window.

Mission accomplished.

Now all he had to do was get James back to the office before, oh god, he noticed anything else wrong with what he saw around him.

[Dr. James Campbell]

Yes! It is my business! You're in my fucking head!

James tried to push back, do something, but he felt like he was being completely shut out. Well, not completely. There were traces of sensations, like the satisfaction he knew came from being someplace completely ordered, that didn't made him want to move things around. Those kind of places were safe, and why was he laughing?

The recruiter had one good moment. One moment where he forced his own consciousness through, at the point where his attacker reeling from the sudden influx of signals, overwhelming with the sheer wrongness of things. James got an almost-clear image of the hallway, the skewed picture, the chip out of the banister, the kids. He heard his own voice curse, something he never did while he was around kids. He tried to do something, call out a warning, but then he was suppressed again.

No. Stop. Don't do anything to the kids. Leave them alone. Leave Niko alone. Oh God, if you touch either of them, I'm going to kill you. James was simply desperate now. He knew that his thought had gotten through somehow, since his attacker had responded to him. Maybe, just maybe he could overload him with chatter? There had been that moment in the hallway when he'd been able to see clearly, if he could get him to slip up again, maybe he'd be able to warn someone. But there was already an edge of hysterical hopelessness in his thoughts, and he couldn't rid himself of it.Look, stop! Stop! Whatever you want, I can help you. You don't have to be in my head. Are you a student? You have to have gone here at some point. Why me? Why did you pick me? What are you doing now. Oh, don't curse, if you're pretending to be me, you bastard. If you go anywhere near my family, I will kill you.

[Gabriel Underwood]

This was getting irritating.

As Gabriel crunched across the gravel and back up to James' office, the man let out a low, unpleasent hiss. Shut the fuck up, James. He thought angrily, doing his best to ignore everything around him, from the brick that had been picked out the wall, to the one pink flower in a row of white. Gripping the handle on the door, he suddenly hesitated, and his... or rather, James' eyes lit up with malice. Stopping what he was doing entirely, he laughed coldly, and tipped his head back, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Niko? He asked suddenly, trying to supress a few more chuckles. You see, this is the reason meta-humans don't get respect. Because thick, desperate people like you fuck it up for them. Opening the door and walking up to the office, ignoring everyone in his path, Gabriel leant against the office wall and felt that relaxed, ordered feeling flood back over him. But thank you, James. Now I have something extra I can use against you and the Institute. You are perhaps more useful than I thought. Settling back down in the chair, the man turned the silver framed photo round and admired it.

"Aww. What a happy family." He said, touching the young girl's face with a finger. Setting the picture back down for a moment, Gabriel decided to inspect the rest of the office with some faint curiousity, looking for anything that might describe this "Niko" person to him. When he found no such items, he hissed slightly, and knocked the tidily arranged books to the floor. It felt wrong, and his skin crawled, but this was irritating. He NEEDED this lead. Perhaps Jesse would give him the information he needed. Sitting back down in the chair with a low growl, Gabriel eyed that photo again, his teeth grinding together.

You annoy me, James. Was the single thought Gabriel sent to the poor man's consciousness, before he did it.

Setting the frame down, he punched out the glass. Sure, beads of blood trickled down his fingers, and it stang, but this wasn't his real body. He didn't care. Next, he crushed the frame under his foot, picking it up and twisting it out of shape till it barely resembled anything at all. Then, Gabriel did his cruelest thing yet. Taking the picture out the frame, he tore it up, littering James' desk with tiny pieces of shredded photo.

"Fuck you James." He said bluntly, still wincing at the mess. "And I'll be seeing Niko later."

[Dr. James Campbell]

....No....

Oh God. James had fucked this up. He tried shutting his thoughts down, trying to do anything to keep the intruder from getting anything else about him, but it was too late. He knew about Niko. And if anything happened to his son, it was his fault.

It was his fault.

This is what kept running through his mind as the intruder went on his exploration of his office. There was a trill of annoyance, and a stinging that felt vaguely like he'd scraped his hands a few days ago. But that didn't matter.

You are a bastard. That's all he could think back. In the past few weeks, he'd been through the biggest mood swings. Adam's threat, Niko agreeing to the fostering, Chase finding out about Adam, going on that recruiting trip and getting Amelia, then Niko actually moving in. And then this, and he wasn't even entirely sure what this was.

He heard his own voice, with the New York accent he had failed to lose after nearly two decades of living in New England. Fuck you. You won't. He tried thinking back, but even his thoughts weren't clear. This intruder into his mind had won.

[Gabriel Underwood]

Gabriel knew he had one the second he heard James' desperate thoughts. And though the blood trickled down his fingers onto the desk, and even though the man was twitching to put everything back together, he'd done what he needed to. He didn't need this body anymore.

"Goodbye James." Gabriel said with a finality that seemed to end James' torture. The next few seconds flipped everything back to an almost normal. The intruder stopped squishing James' conscious away, and retreated away, and there, in that dark, dingy little car, Gabriel came back to his body... with a stinking headache. Sitting up in the back, and moving round to grab that important sheet of paper, the man wiggled back into the front seat and took a few deep breaths, checking his hands almost by habit, as though somehow the glass was in HIS fingers, rather than James'.

"Fucking Campbell." He growled as he pushed his fingers to his temples, images and the voice of the recruiter buzzing around in his head. He was going to need a coffee. A really, really big coffee, and some chinese. Dialing Penny and grunting some instructions to her, Gabriel started up the little car and pulled out of Hammel, leaving behind no trace, aside from James and his broken picture frame. When the headache died down, he was going to celebrate, and tell Fifi and Jesse to find this Niko kid.

Mission successful.

[Dr. James Campbell]

James heard his own voice telling him goodbye, then he pitched forward, barely catching himself on the desk. He could see again, and hear, and all those other wonderful senses he would never take for granted again and why did his hands feel like they were burning?

He looked down and choked. There, on his desk, was his picture. The one he'd had framed the day after his second wedding. The one of him, and Chase, and Ginny, who had been the only member of the wedding party. Only... he scooped up the shreds of photo, trying to rearrange them into the three recognizable faced, but they were blurring with red. Was he crying? Is that why they blurred? James turned his hands over, looking at the scraps of photograph that stuck to them, and the blood...

The tall man sat down, trying to resist the urge to vomit. His hands were bloody, with shards of glass embedded in them.

He'd done this.

His hands had broken the picture frame, shattered the glass. His hands had torn his family photo to shreds. James wanted to be sick. Even when the intruder was in his head, he felt less invaded than this.

He fumbled, trying to get his phone out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket, smearing blood on his suit, shirt, and tie. James pulled it out, and hit the speed dial, willing Chase to pick it up quickly. He wouldn't call during the day unless it was urgent. "Chase. I need you. Some-something happened."

He couldn't talk any more, as he looked around his office, books scattered across the floor. He didn't get up to fix them though.

He just cradled his family photo in his hands.

[Chase Campbell]

Chase was currently outside. The weather was nice, and he had a few of his favourite students with him. Though the lesson had started as a group training session, it had quickly devolved into the boys throwing around the beat up football. The blond man was playing too, but not as aggressively as the boys did. They played rough, and he’d told them several times that tackling teachers was a bad idea.

They didn’t always listen. Which was why he’d taken to playing referee, and calling out some of the dirtier tactics. So far, they were being good, but he knew them, and he knew their potential to get out of hand.

It was a surprise when he heard his phone ring in his pocket. Pulling it out, a quick glance at the caller display showed it was James. His heart began to pound. What the hell? James never, ever called him in the middle of the day. His immediate thought was Niko. Something had happened to him. He was sick, or he was hurt. He answered in a flash. “Jamie?” The voice on the other end was familiar, yet... not. It was strained and it didn’t sound like James at all. “Okay, all right. It’s okay. I’ll be there in a minute.” He snapped his phone shut and looked out the field where his students were still playing. “BOYS. Class is done. Get out of here.” He pointed towards this school. They scattered.

He made it back inside, and into the recruitment wing in record time. He couldn’t see any sense of urgency, but something was telling him to move, and fast. By the time he swung into James’ office, he felt panicked, and he still didn’t understand why.

And then he saw James. His books were in a mess on the floor, and oh God his hands. He stepped over to his husband and crouched in front of him. “James? Jamie, look at me. What happened?”

[Dr. James Campbell]

James was shaking, though he didn't even realize it. It was if he was in a trance. Yes, he saw the mangled silver frame, and the books that were strewn about the floor, and his mind registered them as things that were wrong and needed fixing and he had to do it now before anything bad happened...same as it would have before. But he couldn't stand up, he couldn't even look away from his mangled hands and the mangled photo. Other things were beginning to seep into his mind. Mostly one thought, on repeat.

I did this. I did this. What else did I do?

He had no remembrance of destroying the picture. So what else had he done when he'd been locked up within his own mind? He knew he'd let the name Niko slip. What if the intruder had also picked up on Chase? Or Ginny?

Again, he felt the bile rise in his throat.

James barely flinched when Chase came in, but when he said "Look at me," he did. He had to shallow and wait a moment, to make sure he didn't throw up, then he said, "I did this. Someone was in my head and made me and I did this." His voice was strained, barely there. This amount of blood was more than enough to make him panic, even without everything else that had happened to him....in how long? Was it really less than an hour later?

"Chase...." James managed one strangled word, before having to try again. "Someone was in my head. And I thought about Niko. He knows Niko's name. And he made me do this." He held up his hands, and only then noticed that they were shaking. "And I don't know what else he made me do. I remember being in the hallway, but only for a moment. I don't remember what I did."

[Chase Campbell]

Chase did not like the sight that was in front of him. Not in the slightest. He knew how much it bothered James to have things out of place, and the books on the floor had been a big red flag to him. Even bigger was the fact that James was shaking, his hands bloody. Though he couldn’t tell exactly what he was holding onto, it looked a bloody mess (literally). His stomach turned a little at the sight. Blood didn’t bother him. But blood on James? That bothered him. His heart was racing, and his eyes took on a panicked look when he met James’ gaze.

His strained explanation was difficult to hear, but Chase listened, his gaze darting down to James’ cut up hands, finally identifying the mess as glass shards and a torn photo. One he could only identify by the familiar, now twisted silver frame tossed aside. He bit his lip. The wedding photo. What the hell had happened? He didn’t even know what to do. Try to stop the bleeding? Try to take out the glass? He wanted to help, but he didn’t know what to do. And the explanation he was given just made things worse. In his head? Who the hell would be able to do that? Sure as hell not a student. He ended up with most of the ones with mind control, and he knew of no one capable of this.

And it only got worse. He shuddered a little when James admitted that whoever it was knew Niko’s name. Chase stood up, wrapping his arms firmly around his husband’s shoulders, as if that could protect him. God, he wished it could. “James, I swear to you, I’m gonna find out who did this to you. And we’ll protect Niko with everything we have. No one is going to touch him. Or you.” His gaze narrowed slightly. Whoever had done this, he had an automatic, powerful hatred for. No one messed with James. “Listen to me. We need to get your hands dealt with first. Then we can worry about what he made you do.” He was trying so hard to keep himself together. Focusing on one thing at a time would help him do that.

[Dr. James Campbell]

James stiffened as Chase wrapped his arms around him. He didn't want to get blood on the other man as well. This was going to be hell to get out of his clothes..., and why was he even bothering worrying about that? He had so many other things to be concerned with.

The blond man's promises made him feel slightly better, but it was negligible. "We have to get Niko. He should be with you, you can keep him safe." Chase was able to defend himself against attacks like this, and he'd be able to protect their son. He nodded, then looked down at his hands again, knowing someone else was going to have to pick the pieces of glass out. And he suddenly wanted to wash them, make them look like they had earlier that morning. But he couldn't. The best he could do was gently brushing them together, trying to get the bits of photo that was now sticking to his skin to come off.

Suddenly, James stood, ready to pretend that he didn't feel like having a mental breakdown. "You have to find Niko. And you have to tell Claude. There's a proximity thing, right? He couldn't have been too far away. At least, I think it was a he. The thoughts sounded male in my head but when he actually talked it was my voice and we should go now before I have to pick those books up." Someone who had known him for a while might recognize the manic edge to his voice. James was fixating, this time on what they had to do to protect Niko and the other kids at Hammel. He didn't know what he had done, who he might have hurt, during that time when he was being controlled. But Chase was right, one thing at a time. "You should probably tell Sean too. He's been here a long time, maybe he knows who could have done it."

[Chase Campbell]

The fact that James stiffened told Chase much more than words could. A part of him wanted to let go and give his husband his space. But a much bigger part of him wanted to stay, to comfort him. At this point, he didn’t know which option was better. For how, he let go in favor of looking at James, listening to him.

As if the look in his eyes didn’t communicate clear enough, James’ voice was the other indication that something was wrong. He shook his head the moment the suggestion was out of James’ mouth. Strange, between the two, it was usually James thinking rationally. “He’s fine, James. He’s in class. Nothing’s going to happen to him, and pulling him now is only going to scare him, and half his classmates. We’ll get him after we deal with you.” Why wasn’t he getting this? Chase wasn’t going anywhere until James had seen... who? Clarisse was probably their best bet. She could handle this.

He wasn’t prepared for James to stand up so suddenly. In all honesty, he’d half expected he’d need to physically help James up. He stepped back, watching James with an air of suspicion. He was being rational, yes. But that manic tone... fuck. Chase had never seen him this bad. Freaked out, yes. But this bad? Never. Gently, he reached out to put his hands on James’ shoulders. “Jamie, you’re fixating. Calm down. I’ll talk to Claude and Sean after we fix you.” A long time ago, Chase had developed a habit when it came to his husband. James would panic, and he would very gently get him out of that manic state. It was a reflex now, something he just didn’t think about. He met James’ eyes and gently reached out with his mind. He wanted James to relax, enough to stop fixating and obsessing and just calm down. He didn’t even think about the consequences. He just did it.

[Dr. James Campbell]

"Get out of my head!" James thought as loud as he could, trying to push away Chase's influence. He might have shouted it as well, but he couldn't be sure of that. All James knew was that he wanted everyone to leave his mind alone so he could think.

Usually, he didn't mind having Chase in his head. It only ever happened when he was really stressed out (Or sometimes in bed) and he trusted his husband. He really did. But he just couldn't stand the thought of having someone else's thoughts besides his own in his head at the moment. So while it worked for an instant, slowing his heart rate and making him calmer. But then he realized that someone was again in his head, forcing him to do something, and he panicked again and jerked back, as if breaking contact with Chase would also stop the mental connection. He...he couldn't do that.

And maybe, he would be able to analyze how much that hurt, not wanting to accept Chase into his mind, but right now he had to get his hands wrapped up, find his son, and alert everyone in the administration about what happened. What if someone else was attacked? So, not looking at him--he couldn't meet his husband's eyes, not after he rejected his help like that--he took off his jacket and folded it around his hands. "We don't want the kids to panic." Even though James clearly was. "Chase..." the older man looked around his now-unimmaculate office, then finally back at his husband. He didn't know what to say, or do, or what he'd done. He didn't even know where they should go now, because he couldn't think straight, not with his office like this and what had just happened.