Beatrice, Haller, & Kane | Stray, Never A Cop, and Actual Cop

[xp_birdy]

Haller and Kane interview Arthur’s newfound stray to see what information she has. And make sure she’s not a Brotherhood plant.



The sweats were nice, better than being interviewed in a medical gown for sure, but still Beatrice found herself nervously rubbing her lips with her right hand, nails catching on dried skin and but resisting the urge to peel what she could off. The woman who’d checked her over and cleaned her wounds had left them and now her blue-green eyes darted between the men. “Is Arthur coming back?” She finally asked. “Or, I- he’s dealing with something? Sorry, I — my head, everything’s a little soupy.”

The taller, dark-haired man gave the woman an apologetic smile. "Arthur's around. He's actually the one who asked us to talk to you. If you're feeling up to it we'd like to ask you some questions, though."

Privately, this entire situation felt surreal. Haller understood why Arthur had felt compelled to bring her here -- the medical facilities around District X were flooded with casualties from the riot, and the whole neighborhood was unquestionably unsafe. Keeping this woman at the X-Factor offices had not been a viable option. But instead he'd brought her to the mansion, and the mansion was functionally down to only three X-Men. He, Jean, Jean-Phillipe and Garrison were the only four who hadn't attended the rally, and right now Jean had her hands full with triaging the ones who had. This felt like the worst possible moment to find themselves suddenly hosting a total stranger.

It had to be a probability-manipulator thing.

“About Mr. Creed and the Brotherhood.” It wasn't a question. Her eyes dropped to the floor, returning to worrying her lower lip with her teeth. "I- I know, it's important. I can do this. Or, I can try."

Garrison rubbed that spot over his eye that kept threatening to knot up. Seems like everyone now coming to the mansion had some kind of brush with the Brotherhood these days; a frightening possible sign of their reach.

"Let's start at the beginning. How did you get tangled up with... Mr. Creed in the first place?"

"He said I could be useful, that I could have a better life," the phrase was emphasized by a wet laugh as she clenched her right hand into a fist, "if I just followed him. I just didn't realize that what he was offering came with the price it did. I don't, I know I'm weak, I should have left, but -- anyway he, uh, he got in too deep with the Brotherhood, finally. I don't- I don't know the specifics, but they turned on each other. That's weird, right? Why would they do that?" She finally looked back at them, eyes landing on the taller man.

Haller exchanged a look with Garrison. "Had you heard anything about Creed being involved with the Brotherhood? Or are they using independent contractors now?" Then he thought about Madin, and winced involuntarily.

"We know Creed worked with the Brotherhood. Did you? Can you tell us anything about how you may have worked with. What they wanted to achieve, or was it just transactional?"

"It was contacts, er, contracts, they paid him. I don't know what they were, the end goals. I'm sorry, I didn't ask questions. I just wanted to get through it." Her eyes followed the bearded man. "I'm sorry, I don't even think I could describe anyone. I don't think I ever saw the same person more than once."

"It's ok. This isn't a tribunal. We just-" Kane paused, Madin still close to his mind. "Look, everything can get complex. We just want to know what you know. It helps keep this place safe. So anything you can give us."

"Excuse me," Haller said suddenly, "but you worked contracts with the Brotherhood -- can I ask if you're a mutant?" It felt like a tasteless thing to ask a young woman sitting there with freshly bandaged wounds and clear emotional distress, but right now every ungenerous, paranoid piece of him was at the forefront of his mind. You don't know this woman. Arthur picked her up off the street after a riot where people's powers ran wild. She might--

Haller looked into Beatrice's large blue-green eyes and forcibly terminated the thought.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," he added.

“I am.” Bea admitted slowly, a frown beginning as she eyed him warily. Her teeth caught her lip and this time blood swelled as she broke flesh. But Arthur had said she’d be safe. “Are you?”

Watching Beatrice's teeth work in anxious self-mutilation, Haller felt like the scum of the earth. "It's okay, we all are. I'm a telepath and a telekinetic."

"And the worst person to involve." Kane said quietly. "Look, I know that there are issues, but things are complex." Kane pointed out.

The psi started to open his mouth, then shut it. Right now he didn't trust himself with a lot of things, least of all his interpretation of Garrison's comment.

"You said they turned on each other," he said, trying to get back on task. "Where did you last see them? What was the job?"

“The Brotherhood hired him for a job in W-“ She broke off, trying to remember. “I- Sorry, I’m dumb. I’m Canadian, I don’t know American places in the middle. The city was Milwaukee? That seems right. But I don’t know what the specifics of the job was. He never told me specifics, just what to do. He said 'Cortez said we have a job' and took care of everything else."

"Cortez? As in Fabian Cortez?" Kane said, leaning a little closer. "Creed is getting his orders from him?"

"Was." She corrected, leaning away just as suddenly as the man shifted. "He was, I don't think they're exactly friends right now. I don't know if it was some internal politics or what, but they- I don't know, I thought he said something about putting someone down, but some other mutants were there, they- He blamed me, after."

Haller frowned. "Some kind of internal power struggle?" he asked Garrison. "Have you heard anything about that?"

"Sure, let's talk intel right in front of her." Kane said and rubbed his eye tiredly. ~She's ready for good cop/bad cop. You can tell that in her body language. Good Cop and Doesn't Like Good Cop should put her off-balance, Maybe get her to make a mistake if she's a plant.~ "I need to make a few calls." He said, abruptly getting up and leaving her alone with Haller.

Never A Cop and Actual Cop, Haller thought as the other man shut the door with intentional firmness. It occurred to him Garrison's comment that he was the worst person to be performing an interrogation might not be inaccurate; a counselor's job was not to push, but to draw out.

But maybe in this case that was better. You couldn't order a skittish dog to your side. First, you had to build trust. Her deference, her self-deprecating comments, even the way she seemed to try to shrink into herself told him Beatrice was not a person for whom trust came easy.

Haller turned back to Beatrice and allowed his real regret to show on his face. "Sorry about that. We had people at District X today, too. The riot started because of some kind of terrorist attack. Everyone's on edge."

“Oh, that makes sense.” And the way she said it implied she wasn’t entirely certain about the logic. The taste of blood had made deterred her form continuing to chew on her lip, though she brought up her uninjured hand to dab at it.

And then came a silence as she looked at the door Kane had exited before looking back to Haller. “David… you said you were a telepath. I am too, low-level, nothing to write home about, but if you want to read me, if that’ll help, I won’t be offended.”

Haller blinked, startled at the boldness of her offer. "You're sure?"

“If it’ll help. Arthur said I’d be safe here, and I’m- I’m tired.” Her voice implied this wasn’t just in reference to her current state.

It would be a way to know for sure -- and if Beatrice was a telepath herself she surely knew what she was offering. Haller nodded.

"All right, then." The psi sat back in his chair, keeping his posture loose and non-threatening. "We'll do a surface-link. Yes or no questions, and I read a truth or a lie only. If you can't or won't answer something that's okay, but I'll note it if you do. Do I have your consent to do that?"

"Yes." Bea focused on the man, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

Haller settled his mind around Beatrice's like hands cupped gently around a butterfly. The outer edges of her mind were soft, bright somehow, almost like a glow. The telepath gave her a moment to acclimate to the contact before asking the first question.

"Are you working for the Brotherhood?"

"No."

"Are you still in contact with Victor Creed?

"No."

"Are you here on the behalf of someone I haven't mentioned?"

"No. I didn't even know I'd be coming here."

"Were you involved in the riot in District X today?"

"No."

"Are you here to surveil us? Gather intel for your own purposes, or someone else's?"

"No."

"Do you mean us harm in any way?"

"No."

Nothing but truth in her responses. Superficial though the link was, a direct lie wasn't possible.

Haller exhaled slowly. "Okay," he said. "I have one more question. It's not a yes or no, but I'd like to ask it. What do you want? What's your goal for being here?"

"I want to make the Brotherhood stop. I want someone to make them stop, so no one gets hurt like I did. I want to help." The longer she spoke, the more fervent her words became, eyes brightening but refusing to cry twice today.

Haller studied Beatrice. He found himself struck by how small she was -- barely five feet tall, he thought. The borrowed sweats made her look like a child borrowing her father's clothing. It was strangely affecting to hear such vehemence coming from such a fragile-seeming woman.

And more, he sensed it was the truth.

Carefully disengaging his mind from hers, Haller rose from his chair. "Okay," he repeated. "Let me talk to Garrison and a few other people. It may take a little while. I'm sorry, like I said it's a little chaotic right now. But I think we can arrange for someplace you can recover, at least for a while."

"Okay," she echoed him, nodding as she sagged in her seat, eyes closing. "Can I... Can I sleep? Is that okay?"

Haller smiled.

"Yeah, get some rest. We'll take care of everything."