The Fox and The Hunter

Dick paced the room as Jon watched. Even with full awareness of the house, Jon didn’t want to let him out of his sight.

“You really trust her more than me, don’t you?” Dick asked.

Jon didn’t reply.

“I knew you didn’t like me, but I at least assumed you’d take my word over someone with her history.”

“I’d trust a thief over a politician any day,” Jon sniped.

Dick smiled like he knew something Jon didn’t know, not that that smile meant anything beyond Dick trying to rile him up.

“Why did you commission her to steal Gareth’s pendant?” Jon asked.

Dick clicked his tongue.

“You have no proof I did that,” he said, “I even told you about who she exchanged the package with.”

“Convenient that,” Jon said, “You could have easily passed it to an aide, or even a friend at the party who wore something different.”

Dick’s expression was subtle, but proud.

“This is where you interrogated her, wasn’t it?” he asked, sitting where Viktorya sat before, “If you can call it an interrogation. You’re always lenient on thieves.”

“I won’t be lenient on you.”

“Because of father?” Dick asked, “The man’s been dead twenty years and you can’t lose a grudge, even applying it to his own son.”

“Oh,” Jon said, “I thought you forgot we were brothers.”

Dick stayed quiet for a few moments, fidgeting with his ring. Jon waved away his irritation at the situation. Anyone would be annoyed at being locked in a room with little brother.

“I don’t really consider us related,” Dick said, “You were never in my life growing up, and you resent my presence now. By the time we met, I was sure you were younger than me, as if I never heard the way our father spoke of you; you’d think you were the golden child and Valerie was the disappointment…”

“Valentina,” Jon corrected.

“You’d insist on that, wouldn’t you?” Dick asked, placing the ring back on his finger as he stood up, “Just like that soldier you claim was named Eleanor, but we both know you can’t forget the name on his tags.”

That was the last straw. When Jon stopped seeing red, Dick was against the wall as he held him by his collar. He rarely let himself get this angry. It was dangerous for those in range of him, but right now he didn’t care.

“I don’t dislike you because you remind me of our father,” Jon growled, “I hate you because you’re worse than he was.”

“You flatter me,” Dick said.

“Mandie’s up,” Val’s voice rang through the mansion, “Viktorya’s innocent!”

Jon let the relief set in, returning Dick to the ground.

“You’ll pay for this,” Jon warned.

“You underestimate me.”

Jon was suddenly on the other side of the room, as Dick took a man’s arm, disappearing mid wave.

Jon swung a fist at the wall, indenting it.

Jon woke up while it was still dark. He could sense the whole room though, and Viktorya was not in bed, but at a desk. She was drawing something, which meant she’d seen something.

“Either I was very tired,” he began, “Or you’re impressively quiet. Considering I’m awake right now—” as he turned on the desk light he saw a dead woman’s face.

He’d gotten Eleanor a wig, wanting to see her in it just once. She threw it away a few minutes later after she heard someone coming. He’d locked that image in his mind as the way he would always remember her, but he never expected to see it again.

Viktorya still hadn’t noticed him, almost in a trance. In the corner of the drawing, she wrote, “Eleanor.”

Then she immediately reeled away from Jon’s face, almost falling off the chair until Jon grabbed her shoulder.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She stayed still, unresponsive.

“What is this?” he asked, searching for any hint of a response.

“Oracle,” Viktorya said, not sharing another word.

“This woman’s from the future?”

She shook her head.

“Visions go both ways,” she explained, “Past or future, it’s all time.”

“So you saw the past?”

“Yep.”

“What did you see?”

She shook her head.

“Don’t make me talk about it.”

He held his tongue from asking what she saw again. It was something she considered horrifying. He didn’t need to make her endure it again, but it was Eleanor. Ignoring Eleanor again, even for Viktorya, was something he couldn’t let himself do.

“Did it have something to do with a wig?” he asked. That was the only time he could think of Eleanor looking like that.

“What?” Viktorya sounded more lucid than before with the question, “No, she looked like this for a second, like what she could potentially be manifested before she…”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Jon remembered the events clearly.

“I didn’t—” she began, “I wouldn’t—I’m sorry. I don’t control what I see, or when I see things, though I should have seen this coming.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because it happens. I use a lot of power, I see something horrible. Healing leaves me exhausted, but it can also cause visions, and that’s why my dad’s in a home because healing him just led to me having visions that he would see and they would make him worse, and now I’ve dredged up something horrible for you, so I can’t—”

He held her face in his hands.

“Do I look mad?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“You really don’t.”

“You’re right. I’m mostly worried. You saw something horrible, and I can guess exactly what it was, because it’s haunted me for decades.”

“I assumed she got shot,” Viktorya said.

“She did,” Jon admitted, letting his hands fall back to his sides, “A few times. I couldn’t anticipate every bullet.”

She looked at him with an insulted expression.

“Do you need to stay up?” he asked, “Do you need to go back to bed? Last time this happened I was a whole building away.”

Her expression turned to a pitying one.

“Don’t you feel used?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sure there’s plenty you’re still hiding, but I know how your first love died. I know why Eleanor wasn’t her given name. I know you had a bad relationship with your father, and the identity of your father, and therefore just what your relationship with Senator Walters is. I know who you were before you changed your name. I know that you changed your name—”

“So paying attention is a terrible trait?” he asked.

“What’s my middle name?” she asked.

“What?”

“You know who my father is, but I don’t think I ever gave you the name of my mother. You only know about my friendship with Camille because she told you, and I know most of your knowledge about me came through your sister, not that she’s told you everything.”

He ignored the comment about Val not having information.

“I’m not sure why I should feel used for not learning about you?”

“Because I didn’t offer the information. Most of what I know about you came from you. Most of what you know about me came from other sources.”

She wasn’t completely wrong, but that didn’t mean he believed her. He gently placed a hand on her leg.

“I know your mother left. I know your father mostly raised you on his own, and that he’s very different than he was when you were a kid. I know you like to paint…” he tried to root around for anything else, “I’d like to know your middle name.”

She scoffed, looking away.

“Kseniya,” she admitted, “My mother wanted it to be a patronymic, but dad insisted we use hers, so I’m Viktorya Kseniya Renfield.”

“It’s a good name.”

She still didn’t look happy.

“I clearly can’t make you feel like you aren’t using me,” he said, “So why don’t you just tell me a secret and we’ll call it even for the night.”

She pushed his hand off of her, refusing to look at him for minute. Jon didn’t push the issue. He squatted next to her, offering her a high ground of sorts.

“Okay,” she pulled up her sleeves to reveal a long line of runic tattoos. She placed her finger behind the one on her wrist, then pulled back to the end of the word, “These are called Transition Runes.”’

“Okay,” Jon said. He had no familiarity with the language they were written in, so he couldn’t very well know if she was lying to him.

“Like Eleanor, I don’t go by the name I was given when I was born,” she continued, waiting for a response.

“What name did you have before?” he asked, unsure what else to offer.

She shook her head, muttering something to herself.

“You don’t have to—” Jon began.

“Viktor,” she said, “My mother named me after her brother, and I didn’t want to be that different when I…” she waved her hand, searching for a term, “Realized.”

She tightened her lips, watching for a response. Jon was too busy processing to give a proper answer.

That explained why she laughed at Eleanor’s grave.

“I guess I have a type,” he said.

“Ha!” she immediately put her hand over her mouth at the loud sound, still giggling behind it.

“It’s not like there’s anything I can ask without being rude,” Jon whispered, suddenly aware they were probably the only ones awake.

She seemed to laugh harder, but started breathing regularly.

“Ask away,” she said, “I expected things to get a little invasive after I admitted it.”

He didn’t really want to ask questions about it, but he had to ask something, otherwise he suspected she’d start laughing again.

“What are the runes actually for?”

She had the pitying look again.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“You’re just so reluctant.”

“Maybe I just haven’t outgrown ‘don’t ask, don’t tell.’”

“Shit,” she muttered, “Yeah of course you two would have been considered…”

“Runes,” Jon redirected.

“They make my body as if it was always the way I wanted it to be,” she said, “If that makes any sense.”

He didn’t feel like prying further anyways.

“As much as I can make sense of it.”

She seemed calmer now, felt less in danger of breaking apart.

“Are you alright?” he asked again.

“I could be better, but I was a lot worse a few minutes ago.”

“Well it’s something.”

“And you really don’t care about the whole ‘not always like this’ thing?” she asked, gesturing down herself. He felt a little insulted she was still worried about it.

He offered a shrug.

“People grow, people change,” he took her hands, standing as he lifted her off the seat, their faces closer than necessary, “And I like the woman I’ve come to know.”

He leaned in, only to be stopped by a finger to his lips.

“I think I’m awake enough for something else now.”

Jon couldn’t hold back a smile as her pulled her even closer.

“You sure?” he asked.

She laughed a little, before pulling him into a kiss that made him close his eyes. It ended too soon.

“Very sure.”

Jon’s eyes opened, focusing on the door as he sensed movement behind it. A moment later, Val shoved it open, letting light into the room.

“Operation Better Dad is a success!” she announced.

Jon felt Viktorya stirring behind him. Then he realized what Val just implied.

“What makes you so sure?” he asked.

“Well,” Val took that as an invitation to enter the room, “They were in the kitchen this morning, together, and they were casual about it.”

Jon gave his sister a confused stare.

“Don’t act like they don’t spend a whole minute just staring after any physical contact,” Val insisted, “It was one of the things that annoyed me the most about them growing up.”

“So that means they’re together again?”

“Well they definitely made up or something,” Val said, “Honestly I expected it after Mom volunteered to be his buddy last night—and speaking of buddies, where’s yours?”

Jon didn’t have time to answer as Val leered over the bed until her jaw dropped as she took a step back.

“Shut up,” Jon said.

“I guess they weren’t the only ones who got more comfortable with each other last night.”

He wanted to punch that grin right off her face.

“Get out!”

“I will, but what time exactly did this happen, because I had a bet with Camille—”

Jon threw a pillow at her.

She finally left the room, and Viktorya started cackling.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, turning away from the door to look at her. There wasn’t much morning light thanks to the curtains, but it still turned her red curls into a halo.

“Are you really that embarrassed?” she asked.

“No, I just prefer my privacy, but now everyone in the house will know within the next five minutes.”

“It’ll be fine.” Viktorya dusted imaginary dust off his shoulders, “That just means we don’t have to worry about taking our time to join the rest of them.”

“I suppose so,” Jon said, leaning closer.

Val opened the door again.

“I almost forgot. Breakfast is ready. Get it while it’s hot.”

Viktorya started laughing again.

Jon took note of the way Gareth and his mother sat close to each other during the family meeting, begrudgingly admitting to himself that Val might be right. He also noticed similar staring on their part toward him and Viktorya, also thanks to Val.

“So,” Val began, “Elephant in the room, Dick’s evil, who saw it coming?”

Her hand was raised, alongside Camille, Camélia, Raoul, Gareth, and Mandie. Jon and his mother were joined in lowered hands by Viktorya, who had held a conversation with Dick once before she met Jon.

His mother didn’t seem to take count as she blatantly stared at Gareth.

Val clapped her hands.

“Now we have to ask what to do about it, particularly in regards to his target.”

All eyes turned to Mandie, who shrank slightly into herself. Her hands started moving at a rapid pace, too fast for Jon to catch every word, but there was enough to understand.

“Teach me how to fight,” she requested.

“What did she say?” Camille asked, “I am not familiar with the American—”

“You shouldn’t have to fight,” Gareth said before Camille could finish the question, “It’s a burden a child should never bear.”

Jon noticed his mother averting her gaze. He usually agreed with Gareth, but he knew better.

“So you’ll always have someone around to shield her?” Viktorya asked, “Never let her alone, because we all know Senator Walters likely has the resources to try again.”

Mandie’s gaze turned with great hope to Viktorya.

“I would start committing violence if I was forced to have a chaperon all my life,” Camille added.

“You’re not wrong,” Val said, “And I’d be all for it if it weren’t for the snag, she’s a Sensitive.”

“What does that have to do with it?” Jon asked.

“She doesn’t even talk because she doesn’t like how it feels. What makes you think she can put enough force into a hit without falling over?”

Mandie glared at Val with a psychic interjection.

“Prove it,” Val challenged, “Once you can talk comfortably, full sentences, whole conversations, then we’ll teach you how to fight.”

“That’s cruel,” Viktorya objected.

“Such is life,” Raoul said.

“All due respect, your royal highness, this has nothing to do with you. Forcing her to ignore herself if she wants to learn self-defense? That’s counterintuitive.”

“You’re right,” Jon agreed.

“No she isn’t,” Val said.

“But you’re right too.”

He could sense Viktorya glaring daggers at him.

“Mandie will have to get comfortable with discomfort if she actually wants to be a skilled fighter, but she can’t ignore her senses, because they’re her greatest asset. It’s easier to counter an attack if you know its trajectory.”

Viktorya stopped glaring, though her gaze was still on him.

“Are you volunteering?” his mother asked, “Since you have the most experience in using greater senses in a fight.”

If Jon didn’t know any better, he’d assume they planned this.

“Once Val’s conditions are met, I will help teach Mandie to fight,” he promised.

“Tha—” Mandie started before slamming her hands over her ears. Jon teased one of them off.

“That’ll just make it echo in your head more.”

Mandie nodded, though she stayed silent.

“Glad that’s settled then,” Val said, “Now to the second elephant: Why did Dick hire Viktorya to steal Gareth’s mom’s pendant?”

Jon had forgotten the whole reason he’d met Viktorya in the first place. He still didn’t know who Chamberlain was. Technically there was still a possibility Viktorya was involved, though he threw the notion away quickly.

“We don’t know he was the Chamberlain in question,” Viktorya said, “Whoever it was had to know the Fox’s identity, since they threatened my father, and know I could draw Jon’s attention, since that seemed to be the goal.”

Dick wanted him distracted. He needed something for Jon to focus his attention on, so when the reunion came around, he wouldn’t be in the house.

“Aunt Camélia, what’s the Fox’s record in terms of successful heists?”

“Perfect,” Camélia said, “As it should be.”

“What are you figuring out?” Viktorya asked.

“Dick knew you would be able to get past me, or at least heavily suspected. He also knew Gareth wouldn’t call the police on a thief, especially one from the court. The whole thing is routine to some extent, including giving you the card, so all he needed was something that would make me focus on you and nothing else.”

“So I’m the distraction,” Viktorya said.

“And it would have worked,” Val said, “If you hadn’t run into the fire, not that we know how he knew your identity—why don’t we have someone protecting your father by the way?”

“Because he’d notice,” Viktorya said, “And if he notices, he’ll get mad, and if he gets mad, then things will get dangerous. There’s a reason there’s only so many recovery facilities for the superhuman.”

“He attacked you once,” Jon noted.

“Yeah,” Viktorya admitted, “That was bad.”

“We should still keep an eye on you, darling,” Diana said, “You’re a loose end in Dick’s plan.”

“I can handle myself,” Viktorya said.

“I don’t think I should be the one in charge of her,” Camille said, “She’s boring in large doses.”

“I don’t need protection,” Viktorya said, “I can see a threat coming before any of you can anyways. It’s redundant.”

“Even me?” Jon asked.

Viktorya’s eyes widened as she watched him intently.

“If you slept with me,” she whispered, “Because it would help you protect me, I will never forgive you.”

“You’re the one who extended the invitation,” Jon answered. She scowled.

“Share it with the class,” Val teased.

“No,” Viktorya said.

“If I come over on my time off,” Jon offered, “I can make sure there isn’t anything you missed, and keep you from getting hurt.”

Viktorya seemed less than pleased at the proposal, but gave a deep breath.

“I can work with that, but only because it’s you.”

“Ooooh!” Val and Camille exclaimed.

“Shut up!” Jon insisted.