Introducing The Cause Of All My Emotional Problems Part Two

Hello, dear readers!

Ready for more stories?? In this next installment, you get to meet the ex-assassin who Clair befriends, watch as O'don finds out about Clair's strained relations with a certain blond villain, and get sucked into this fabulous tale of friendship and roommates. Hold on to your hats-- this ride can get wild.

 The Space Mercenary Finds Out Some Things About Clair And Later They Gain Another Roommate

Later that evening

I stick my head into the doorway of the living room, where O’don is watching TV.

“I’m heading out.”

He looks up. “Where to?”

“Out,” I reply, impatient to go. I have a time-sensitive mission waiting for me, something dealing with sneaking into an office building and checking out weapon plans. “I might be back late.”

He raises an eyebrow. I hastily exit before he asks questions.

“Just don’t let him know too much about your job, Clair. You never know what a suspicious, possible threat would do. You know how to handle this kind of work. He doesn’t need to get involved.”

I roll my eyes, recalling Dad’s words. He’s right, of course. O’don doesn’t need to get involved.

 It’s way later than I expected when I get back. Way past midnight. I open the door softly, trying to keep from waking up O’don, since I’m assuming he’s asleep. I hear the TV blaring and wonder if he fell asleep on the couch. Clutching my bruised ribs, I look into the living room and find the couch empty. I walk over and turn it off, plunging the room into darkness and silence. With that comes the same feeling someone’s watching me from earlier. I turn and find O’don leaning against the doorway, very much awake.

“I was watching that.”

He walks past me and turns the TV back on.

“Out a bit late, were you?” He raises an eyebrow, glancing over the A.R.R.O.W. uniform. “And with quite a fancy suit.”

I open my mouth to respond, but he cuts me off.

“What’s up with all the bruises? What were you doing?”

I sigh. “It’s none of your business, and anyway, I can’t tell you.”

He tilts his head. “If we’re going to be roommates…” he says, copying my statement earlier.

I walk out of the living room, brushing past him. “I really can’t tell you. You’d be in danger.”

“I’m living in the same house as you. Wouldn’t that put me in danger anyway?”

“You’re safer not knowing.”

“This is an A.R.R.O.W thing, isn’t it?”

I stop and turn around to face him. “Well, yeah, that much is pretty obvious.”

“But you can’t tell me what you were doing?”

“Nope.” I start up the stairs, slowly, every bruised muscle protesting.

“Looks like you took a beating,” O’don remarks, following me.

“Things didn’t go as planned.”

“And what kind of plan was there in the first place?”
I glare at him, too tired to even argue. “You’re not going to give up until you find out.”

“What can I say? I’m a naturally curious person.”

“It was an infiltration mission. I got caught,” I admit, adding hastily, “Their security was better than we had anticipated.”

“Ah.”

We reach the top of the stairs.

“So were you just going to sneak into the house?”

“I figured you would be asleep.” I open the door to my bedroom. “I need to change back to civvies, if you’ll excuse me.”

He notices the dark red stain on my sleeve.

“Is that your blood, or someone else’s?”

I give him a disgusted look. “Doesn’t matter.” I try to close the door.

“It’s your blood, isn’t it?”

“I’m fine.” I close the door, turn away, and roll up my sleeve.

 That guy with the knife was fast.

I reach into my dresser and pull out a first-aid kit, wrapping my arm in a bandage.

“That doesn’t look fine.”

I turn and glare at O’don, who had opened my door.

“I’ve survived worse.”

“Like what?” He crosses the room and takes my arm, examining the bandage, to my annoyance.

“I’ve been stabbed. Shot. Almost drowned, once. Half a dozen other major injuries.”

He drops my arm and grins at me. “Seems like a lot of people just want you dead.”
I shrug, wincing slightly. “Comes with the job. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” I steer him out the door. “I need to change.”

  Things settle down in about a week. O’don and I get used to living with each other, I get used to living in a place that isn’t floating hundreds of miles in the air, we get used to the house.

Of course, it’s now that something totally disrupts all of this. Well, two things, actually. First of all, Will finds me. Second of all, we gain a new roommate.

It was a Monday when I encountered Will. I was walking home from the grocery store, having run to get more ramen, when I feel a cold breeze blow from behind me. Previously, the warm summer wind had been keeping my hair out of my face. I turn, clutching the plastic store bag, and glare at Will.

“Where have you been?” he calls lightly, stepping away from the shadow of the alley where he’d been hiding. “You haven’t been around the Lift.”

“I moved,” I reply, taking a step back.

“Ah,” he replies. “Got tired of taking orders from your lying father?”

I clench my fists. “I’m still working for A.R.R.O.W.”

He tilts his head. “And looking none the better for it.” He steps closer, invading my space, tracing the remains of a bruise on my jaw.

I back away, narrowing my eyes. “I do what I have to.”

“You could be like me. You could join us.” He sighs softly. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. But you and I both know I can’t join you and that Uprising.”

“And you and I both know I can’t join you and A.R.R.O.W.”

I take another step back. “Then why don’t you just leave me alone, now?”

He moves close, taking my arm. “You superheroes, you’re so weak. You wouldn’t force me to go to your side, it goes against your precious moral code. I have an advantage,” he informs me, trying to pull me down the alleyway. “I don’t have a moral code.”

I try to pull away, but his grip is stronger than I remember. He lucked out on grabbing the arm with the still-healing stab wound, so I can’t pull too hard without risking opening it again. I hear approaching footsteps and pray it isn’t another Uprising member.

“Hey, Clair, I hoped to catch you at the store. We’re also out of—“

O’don pauses as he takes in my predicament.

“He a friend of yours, Clair?”

I glance over my shoulder at him, shaking my head slightly. I want to tell him to run and get out of here. Will is too dangerous.

“I could ask the same thing,” Will says, looking from O’don to me.

“O’don, this is Will, Will, this is my roommate, O’don. Now we’re all introduced, so you, Will, can leave, and O’don and I will go home.” I tug against Will’s grip persistently.

“Or, perhaps, I’d like to get better acquainted with your roommate, Clair,” Will says, loosening his grip on my arm slightly. He takes a step closer to O’don, giving me the chance to twist out of his hands and grab his arm this time.

“Leave him alone,” I growl. “If you lay one finger on him, I swear I’ll—“

Will laughs at me. “You’re cute when you try to be scary.” He wrenches away from my grip, tenderly touching the bruise on my face again. “I’ll leave you to him, Clair, but don’t worry. I’ll find you again.”

He’s gone.

“What was that about?” O’don raises an eyebrow.

“Remember talking about the fact a bunch of people want me dead? Yeah, he happens to be part of an entire group that hates me.”

“There’s literally a whole group just for people who want to kill you?”

I shrug. “I mean, mostly they want to overthrow the government and take over the world. I keep on stopping their plans, so yeah, they don’t really like me.”

“Ah.”

“What were we out of?”

“Milk.” He yawns.

I hand him the grocery bag. “I’ll go get it. Here’s the ramen.”

 Lucky for me, I get to avoid explaining about Will to O’don by getting a mission assignment. There’s a guy hiding out in an abandoned warehouse who’s wanted for, like, a ton of murders. So I take the milk to the house, change, tell O’don I’m leaving, and get out before he asks questions.

The sun is just beginning to set as I approach the warehouse. Pushing the door open cautiously, I brace myself for attack as soon as I step foot inside. Nothing happens for a long moment until I hear the crash of a glass bottle breaking upstairs.

He’s known for drinking. He kills and then steals a bunch of beer. There’s a high possibility he’ll be drunk when you find him.

I walk up the narrow ramp to the second floor, avoiding loose boards. The sounds of loud swearing and more bottles smashing lead me to a small, thin-walled room in the back.

He sees me as soon as I open the door, and he knows exactly what I’ve come for.

“Whaa… no…” he slurs, stumbling to his feet, the beer bottle in his hands shattering on the ground. The entire place reeks of beer, and glass shards cover the floor like a carpet. “I can’t go back…”

He charges me, fists swinging recklessly. I dodge once, twice, and land a solid punch on his jaw. It doesn’t do much to the huge man, just disorients him, but that’s all I need. I grab his wrists firmly and pull out a pair of handcuffs.

“You are under arrest in the name of A.R.R.O.W, charged with the murders of—“

The glass window that had so helpfully brightened the room now shatters. Seconds later, my captive collapses to the ground, dead, with a bullet between his shoulder blades.

I bend down and check for a pulse. He was dead before he hit the ground. I turn to the window and squint into the sunlight. A shadow leaps from a neighboring roof and flees.

I give chase.

Dashing down the shady alleyway, I suddenly hope Will doesn’t catch me now. This was probably a really bad idea.

Oh, well.

Distracted by the sudden turn ahead, I don’t notice the foot stretched out from a small hiding spot right at my feet. I suddenly find myself tripping, falling, and then I’m flipped over onto my back and there’s a knife at my throat.

“You saw nothing, A.R.R.O.W agent,” a deep, female voice warns. “You—Hold up. How old are you, kid?”

I blink, surprised by the sudden change of topic. “What’s it to you? Who are you, by the way?”

“You’re, like, twelve. What is A.R.R.O.W doing recruiting kids?”

I stiffen. “I’m a special case.”

The person with the knife relaxes a little, the blade pressing more gently.

“Who are you?” I shove upwards, surprising the lady, and slip out from under her.

“That’s none of your business.”

“It is when you kill my target. I needed him alive.” I stand warily, eyeing the tall, dark lady.

She makes no move to attack me  again. Not yet, anyway.

“Yeah, well, I was paid to make sure he was dead.”

“By who?”

She gives me a tired look. “You know what, I didn’t even pay attention to that. He gave me money and pointed me in the right direction.”

“What kind of assassin doesn’t know who paid them?” I mutter to myself, relaxing my posture a little.

“Ex-assassin,” she corrects. “This was going to be my last job. I’m retired now.”

“Ah.” I am slightly confused, but, whatever. As long as she isn’t trying to kill me, this lady actually seems pretty interesting.

She turns to leave and pauses. “Wanna get some Starbucks?”

I hesitate, about to say no, before hearing approaching footsteps and feeling a cold breeze at my back.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”

Don't ask how, because I'm honestly not sure, but somehow this ex-assassin, who goes by Black'Fang and refuses to give her real name, becomes the occupant of the third empty bedroom in the house.

And no, I'm not looking forward to telling my father that I'm now sharing a house with an extraterrestrial and an assassin.

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And that, dear readers, is just the beginning. 

From here, the story tends to dissolve, shattering into a multitude of headcannons, one-shots, and roleplays. Things for the next six or seven years of their lives are less certain, more speculative, with a few more solid stories thrown in here and there. I'll keep posting about these one-shots, roleplays, and so on in the future, so as to properly introduce this cast of characters before everything comes to a screeching halt and spirals into flames. 

Enjoy!