Hot Scoop
"Sis, get to bed- it's two in the morning." Piper barely registered the words spoken by her little sister, Nat. She had been plucking away at her computer since she got home. Too much information to exorcise from her fingertips, and too little time. Her mug of coffee, her fourth cup today, had long since run cold and empty; yet she found herself reaching for it instinctively, her brain too absorbed in other, more important things.
"Says the gremlin who's ALSO up at two in the morning." Piper chuckled, wheeling her chair around to face the young girl.
Nat rubbed her eyes. "Couldn't sleep;" She slurred, obviously loopy from exhaustion. "'N don't call me a gremlin."
"Okay, okay," Piper softened, beckoning the young girl over to her. "Tell me what's the matter kiddo."
Her sister shuffled over to her without hesitation, pulling herself up into her older sister's lap, the cheap swivel chair giving a whine under the weight. The smaller girl curled up into a ball, head resting in the crook of Piper's neck.
"I've been thinking about dad."
The sentence came like a punch to the throat, but she had gotten used to it. After what happened to their father, it was like a dead horse, constantly hanging over their lives; rotting and decaying but never going away. It had been years ago, sure; but Piper could still hear people whisper about it whenever she walked into a room- she was sure the same thing happened to Nat, too. She brushed her younger sisters hair back gently with her hand, kissing her temple.
"Me too, Nit-nat." She said soothingly. She knew her sister hated all the bizarre nicknames she gave her, but she ALSO knew that the younger girl found them endearing, so she continued; despite all protests. "Anything I can do to make it any better?"
Nat paused, as if contemplating her answer. "Promise me you won't leave, like he did."
She left the word 'leave' so open, she couldn't tell exactly what she meant, but she had an idea. The flat tone of her voice left Piper hollow, and she could feel her grip on Nat tighten slightly.
"I'm never leaving you, kiddo. Never. Scout's honor." She rubbed her hand against Nat's shoulder.
This answer seemed to soothe the her, albeit slightly.
"Now," Piper continued. "Get your skinny butt to bed." She patted Nat's back, trying to entice her off her lap.
"Only if you promise to turn off the computer and get some sleep." Nat didn't budge; she was her little sister, after all.
"I will, I will;" Piper put her hands up placatingly. "I'm surprised. Never figured you'd be one to hate the news, Nat."
The younger girl had begun wiggling off her lap. "Don't give me that. You fell asleep standing up on the bus yesterday. Nick told me about it."
'Nick...' Piper grumbled. He was such a dad, sometimes. Though Piper supposed it was nice to have someone looking out for her.
"Well, fine. You and Nick win. I'll go to sleep. Just let me change. I really don't want to sleep in these jeans." Nat sprung off her lap, and Piper stood up, making sure to save her draft before closing her laptop.
"Yeah. They smell bad enough already." She could hear Nat giggle.
"You little stinker-" Piper smirked, lunging for her, fingers outstretched like claws. "I'm gonna get'cha!"
Nat giggled, shrieking through the apartment, running away back to the safety of her room and slamming the door before the 'tickle monster' could get its poorly manicured hands on her. Once the door shut, Piper straightened up and sighed. She was a good kid. She deserved so much more than what she could offer; with her shitty one bedroom studio in the middle of what had to be one of the worst neighborhoods in Boston.
'Better not think about it now,' She thought to herself. 'Or I'll be wrestling with 'ifs' and 'buts' all night.' She wheeled around to the bathroom, sloughing off most of her crummy makeup from the day. Well, technically she'd been wearing the same makeup for the past two days, but no one really needed to know that. She tied her hair up into a ponytail, absentmindedly brushing her teeth as she realized she had to meet Nick at seven AM sharp tomorrow. She groaned into her worn in toothbrush; she had an awful habit of stress chewing them, which meant she went through quite a few every couple of months. She used to hope he would be late, too, so he couldn't chastise her. But that man operated like clockwork. When he set a time, he meant it. She flicked off the bathroom light, walking back into her living room-slash-office-slash-bedroom; like her, the room multitasked. She peeled her grimy clothes off, having sweated through them at least twice over. She needed to put away some time to actually do laundry, this week. Nat had to do it last time and she had felt terrible. She rummaged through her drawers for a pair of pajama pants and a 'Boston Red Socks' shirt her father had gotten her before he died. The one and only baseball game they ever went to together. It didn't fit her, anymore; but she usually wore it to bed. She slipped the shirt on over her head, and pulled the worn in pajama pants up to her hips before crawling into her beaten in mattress. Her phone was on her 'nightstand'; basically just a bunch of piled up notebooks, textbooks and old newspapers, so she would be sure if anyone needed her in the wee hours of the morning, which was unfortunately a common occurrence, she could answer them. She didn't realize how tired she was until her head hit the pillow. She didn't even have the energy to pull the covers over her body; she just reached up with one, exhausted arm and flicked the lightswitch off.
Usually, she could hear teenagers with their stereos blasting galavanting down the street like party animals, or the sound of renegade police sirens. The sounds of the Boston Commonwealth that sang her to sleep. But tonight it was quiet; she didn't exactly mind it. She wondered aimlessly whether those party hard teenagers were tucked in with their parents for the night; or if those Boston City PD pigs had figured out a better hobby than harassing the weak. Her mind sank into semi consciousness, the level that separated sleep from the waking world. She thought of Nat and her father, swimming in pastel colors skittering through the wind; waving at her as she was falling, softly, like a petal in the breeze-
Her door crashed open, brutally rattling against the wall; the sound of boots stomping on cheap wooden flooring. Her brain struggled on the transition from semi-consciousness to bullet time. She pushed herself up from her bed, looking back at what had to be three fully armed police officers, dressed in their Boston blues.
"Piper Wright." One of them said in a voice meant to be domineering; as another yanked her up from her bed.
"What-" Was all she could get out before she was flung against a wall. "Shit!" She cursed, her brain bouncing around in her skull from the impact.
"You're under arrest. Don't try to resist." The voice was calm, like a cyborg. These fucks had no emotion at all. No conscience, Piper had decided. The police officer who was strong arming her slammed her face down on her desk; causing her to bite her cheek.
"Piper!?" The cry was small, terrified, and it belonged to Nat. Piper fought to turn her head to look at the doorway to her sister's room. There she was. Tiny and scared.
"It's gonna be okay Nat- don't be scared, it's gonnaAHGH." The officer cuffing her was about to break her damn wrists.
"Stop resisting." He said flatly, pushing her harder down against the desk.
"Let go of my SISTER, YOU ASSBAGS!" Nat lunged at the officer holding her, Piper shouted, shrieked at her to stop. 'Go back to your room' she wanted to say. She didn't have enough time to talk her sister out of it. She was tiny, and scared, and full of the kind of rage only a girl barely into the double digits could have. She could tell the officer who had just finished cuffing her was ready to backhand her across the room the moment she laid a finger on him. Her brain went into bullet time, full on 'Matrix' slow mo. She was horrified; this couldn't be happening, this was just a bad dream- it was just a bad dream.
But before Nat could make contact with the officer, a third one scooped her up.
"Easy, there." His voice was deep, commanding, but it wasn't mechanical or emotionless like the first two. He didn't grab her with rough force, he scooped her up like she was a child who couldn't swim and was getting too close to the pool. "We're not going to hurt your sister." He was trying to comfort her, on one knee, trying to look her in the eye. She only looked at him with rage.
"You guys are hurting her right now, ASSHOLE!" She kicked his shin, but he barely reacted, picking her up and pinning her arms to her sides as she kicked and screamed.
The officer detaining her slammed her against another wall like a rag doll.
"Stop resisting." He repeated, like a broken record. Normally, she'd take it. It was better to not give them any 'injuries' to complain about; to use them as evidence to say she had attacked them. But they had her sister; her frigging sister. They weren't about to drag her family into this.
"I'm not FRICKING RESISTING, SHITDICK." She flung herself backwards against the man, and rabbit kicked the cop in the doorway. She thrashed and shrieked, swinging her feet back at the cop, her heels slamming against his shins. "LET GO OF MY FUCKING SISTER-" She usually didn't drop f-bombs unless it was something serious, but this shit was kicking into overdrive.
"Get her out of here-" The cop who she had just kicked through a doorway grimaced. "The Mayor better do something about this one," He started as the cop pulled her through the doorway. "I'm getting sick of having to drag her in. Better lock her up for a couple years, maybe THAT'll teach her to be better behaved." The two of them were cackling, all she could see were two bloated witches stirring a stew made of babies and small children.
"Danse!" Their de facto 'leader' shouted. "Get rid of the mouthy brat, we're heading out."
"Yes, sir." The man had been allowing Nat to thrash and kick him for the better part of the altercation; but the words 'get rid of' turned Piper's stomach. As they dragged her out to the squad car, Piper couldn't help but scream. She hoped somewhere, somehow, Nick or even Hancock could hear her and make sure they hadn't deposited her sister in a dumpster somewhere. They flung her into the back of the squadcar, and she struggled to right herself to look at the door to her apartment complex; waiting for the third cop to come out, praying he didn't have blood on his hands. It was barely even a minute before the third officer, 'Danse' whisked out of the doorway. He looked clean, for the most part; but he was cradling his hand for some reason. The two other officers currently occupied the front seat, which meant 'Danse' was going to have to ride in the back. With her. Great.
Sure enough, he swooped in, planting himself in the seat next to her. Piper wanted to headbutt his fucking teeth in and demand to know what he did to Nat.
"Have fun wrangling that kid, Danse?" The man in the passenger seat cackled as the driver quickly pulled out and away; starting for what she assumed was the Boston lockup.
"No." Came his humorless response.
"What'd you do to my sister, jackoff." Piper snarled, looking over at him. He turned to her, eyes wide and blinking.
"I- put her in her room?" He answered her like it was obvious, like he was incapable of doing anything else. "She kept trying to claw my eyes out. I thought I had finally gotten her to settle down when she-" He kept massaging the meat of his hand as he looked sideways at her. "Bit me."
Piper looked at him like he was nuts. Was he really expecting her to feel bad for him when they violently dragged her out of her bed and arrested her in front of her little sister at two in the fucking morning? She leaned towards him, eyes wide, mouth forming a snarl.
"Boo frigging hoo, Sergeant Shitdick." Her rage must have been hilarious to the two bozos up front; because they didn't stop laughing the entire way to the station.
--
Piper sat on the bench in the lockup. Cross legged, tired and pissed. She wanted to scream. She wanted to rattle the bars of the cell just to piss off one of those idiots and wrinkle their stupid uniforms when she snatched their stupid badges off their stupid pockets. She wanted to cry. But damnit, she couldn't, she couldn't let them see her cry. Not now. Not ever. She wasn't even going to sleep on their watch. She didn't trust their grimy faces, their sweaty smiles, their grabby little hands-
But shit she was tired.
She felt herself wavering in her seat. Swaying from the left, to the right, to the left again- like an elderly man sitting in a canoe. She could barely make out the usual din of footsteps, ringing phones, and fake laughter that the Boston PD was known for. She sure as hell didn't make out the sound of the door to the lockup slamming, and the sound of jingling keys.
"It's your lucky day, Piper; again." It was Teagan. He was in charge of the lockup. Usually it was just drunks and teenagers caught out too late- but she'd been stuck in the cell so many times they had renamed it 'The Piper Suite'. "Someone's come to spring ya." She looked up, and there, in all his film noir glory, stood Nick Valentine.
"Well, if it ain't the Million Dollar Man." Piper grinned, earning a small chortle from the man in question. He was clad in his usual trench coat-fedora combo, and looked like he had leapt straight off a poster for 'Casablanca'.
"And if it ain't Boston's favorite Hot Scoop." He teased her right back, waiting for Teagan to unlock the door. She pushed herself to her feet, which, unfortunately, were bare against the unwashed concrete. The door slid open, and Teagan ushered her out towards Nick.
"Thanks, Proctor." Nick kept a happy front with the Boston PD. Made it easier to bust her out, that way. He put a protectively, almost fatherly arm around her. Resting his hand on her shoulder.
"No problem, Valentine." Teagan smiled at him; she wanted to slap that smile right off his stupid face.
"Come on, Piper. Let's go." Nick knew better than to talk about anything in the Boston Police Department. He led her out; out through the hustle and bustle that comes during a late night in the PD. She slogged after him like a zombie, dead tired, and dead beat. Her face, shoulders and wrists had begun to ache. She knew she was probably going to have a nasty shiner by morning; if she didn't already have one now. The moment they got outside Valentine pulled off his coat and draped it around her; her feet, wet from the pavement, carefully dancing around the concrete on the way to his car, careful to avoid anything sharp. He pulled the door open for her and she flung herself inside, shivering. He quickly plopped himself in the drivers seat, turning the engine on, and with it, the heat. Piper raised her hands over the vents of the car, offering a grateful shudder.
"So how'd you know I was here?" Piper asked as Nick pulled out his phone from his back pocket.
"Nat called. She was hysterical." He answered her, typing quickly on the keypad; his prosthetic hand tapping on the steering wheel. It was a nervous tick that came when half your body was wired to be mechanical. "Can't believe they'd drag you out like that; in front of your sister." He slid his phone back into his pocket, looking over at her.
"Me neither. It all just- it went into bullet time." Piper sighed. She felt the cold metal of Nick's prosthetic fingers on her chin as he gently turned her head to face him.
"Gave you one hell of a shiner, too. Bastards." He muttered that last word lowly, letting her go.
"Great. Now I'm gonna have to walk around explaining THAT to people all week." She sighed. "Who even paid my bail?" She knew Nick didn't make that much money with his 'detective agency', no matter how successful it was.
"Do you even have to ask?" Valentine sighed. "Hancock, of course. Had to talk him out of storming down here himself like an enraged piece of fried chicken."
That got a chuckle out of her; which was probably Valentine's intention.
"I promised to text him when I sprung you. He's posted a couple guys at your place to keep an eye on Nat; and you, too, I'm wagering. The guy knows how it feels to have the cops after your hide- only he has bodyguards."
"He's a crime lord. Cops aren't the only people after him."
"True. But you're lucky I managed to talk him out of marching in there, THEN we'd have problems." Nick was silent a moment, looking at her in the dimly lit car.
"Piper; I know I've been telling you for ages- but I'm gonna tell you again. You need to ease up with this 'journalism' thing you've got going on. I'm all for freedom of speech, freedom of press; but someone's gonna put a bullet in you someday, and neither me nor Hancock can fix death." His tone was adamant, like he was begging her to be more careful. Poor Nick; he should know better by now.
"You can't put a bullet in the truth, Nick." She leaned back in her seat, wrapping the trench coat tightly around herself.
"No," He sighed, switching his car into drive. "but they can sure as hell shoot the messenger." He pulled out of the police station parking lot; driving them both off into the neon lit silence of a Boston night.