Holding Out for a Hero [Alfred]

[Maëlle Williams]

♛

I will not bend. i will not break. i'll show you. i'll show you.

Maëlle leaned backwards as she pressed the save command, sealing the transcript conversation that she had spent the past two days deciphering. There were cameras stationed outside a seedy pub that recorded a long conversation between a suspected criminal and a potential gang member, but Maëlle had to switch viewpoints many times as the two shifted repeatedly as they socialized. A yawn threatened her lips and she patted her mouth with her palm, giving her arms and back a long stretch. Her eyes glanced over to the clock on the wall before they practically popped from her eye sockets. It was 11:38 pm. Wide violet eyes and clumsy tired fingers scrambled to pull out a bus schedule. When she did fumble the paper into her hands, she grimaced. The last bus departed well over an hour ago. Maëlle sighed as she tucked the paper into her purse. She could try to signal a cab? Except… cabs didn’t drive down this street at this time, and calling one on a cellphone was not an option for her. She quickly packed up her purse and took her coat, silently moving to the elevator. Save for her desk, the entire office section was dark and she hadn’t noticed the time slipping away. Normally Maëlle worked late, but this was exceptionally bad, even for her. Maëlle punched her card out once she hit the main floor and headed for the main desk, but the guard on duty wasn’t present. Maëlle’s heart sunk a bit; she had hoped to ask him to use the telephone for her. She sighed and wondered if he was in the bathroom or something. Maëlle waited there for ten minutes before staring out onto the darkened street. Truth be told, her apartment was only a 30 minute walk from the government building if she cut through a few alleyways. If she took the long way, it was over an hour. Maëlle glanced back to the vacant security desk, then back outside. Although the Government area had police presence, she knew some of the alleys did not. However, a walk on the street past midnight on prosthetic legs didn’t seem pleasant, plus her stumps were aching due to the storm that was moving in. If she hurried, she could get home before the rain. Maëlle glanced back at the desk one last time before swiping her card to unlock the door. Firmly tucking her purse against her side, she set out on her night commute down the quiet street. Maëlle could feel a dull ache in her stumps, enough that it was irritating but not debilitating. She grimaced slightly, stopping to give her knees a quick rub. She debating turning around and trying to find a main street with a cab, but it was hard for her to pick up a cab on the street and speak to a driver in the darkness. She tugged at her pant leg, adjusting the professional attire before continuing on. Directions were something that Maëlle could handle. She knew what direction she needed to go in and how far to walk on each street from looking at a map when she first came to London. Sure, the city was different from the other large towns she had been in, but fundamentally they were all the same; streets, alleys, and rows upon rows of buildings. She needed to head northeast, and she could zigzag from alley to street to alley to cut across the buildings. There was only a few problems with her grand plan that she realized as she started down the first alley. There were no alleyway streetlights like Ottawa. Maëlle was almost entirely a sight-based individual. Touch was important to her, but more so with people and surfaces that responded to pressure, like wooden floors. Concrete sidewalks and backlanes were nearly impossible for her unless there was construction of some sort or a natural disaster that shook the ground. Being in low lit conditions was terrible alarming for her and after getting half way down the alley, she decided against her original plan and would head for a convenience store on the main roads. Streetlights or not, she didn’t want to walk anymore and would pay for a cab. That was when Maëlle first noticed them; a group of people loitering in the alley entrance that she had passed through a minute or so before. It wasn’t clear to her if they had called out to her or not, but she was certainly noticed by them as they began to follow. The dark light masked most, if not all of their features, but a bad feeling crept into Maëlle’s stomach as she turned back to continue down the alley. Considering the dim light and safety of the neighbourhood, she had no intention of waltzing up to anyone, nevertheless strangers that lurked in alleyways. Maëlle glanced back over her shoulder not-so-inconspicuously a few moments later, feeling a knife of panic plunge in her stomach because the individuals (she saw four) were not only following her, but they were closing whatever distance there had been between them when she first saw them. Her first instinct was to run. She was scared, and panic was making her throat tight as she clutched onto her bag. She didn’t carry mace; Maëlle didn’t really believe in violence or threats to carry around. She had a cloth purse, her day planner, wallet, and an archaic phone that barely managed basic texting, along with makeup, lipbalm, and a few other random items like receipts and loose change. Maëlle quickened her pace, but the deep cracks in the uneven pavement promised difficulties. She looked back to see the group, four males from what she could tell, about 10 feet from her. She froze. She needed to yell, scream, or call for help. Anything. Something instead of stepping back like a frightened animal caught in the headlights. Light filtered in from the street, which was not far in theory, but there was no way Maëlle could sprint, and no guarantee it was any better than the alley. Oh god. “I said, where are you going?” Maëlle finally locked eyes with one, and it took her a few seconds to fully put together what he had said. She took a step back, feeling her heartbeat throbbing in her chest and her palms slick with sweat. She needed to lie. She blinked a few times before she spoke. “Tue my boyfriendsh.” Maëlle knew she must have lied unconvincingly or said the words with some auditory hiccup because two of them were laughing and one had stepped towards the street, cutting her only escape off. Maëlle retreated back until she could feel her shoulders brushing the brickwork adorning the wall. “Is that so?” Maëlle watched the one speaking exchange glances with the male on his left. They were smiling in a way that made Maëlle push back further against the wall. “I’m sure your boyfriend…” There was an emphasis on the word as his lips quirked slowly. “…Won’t mind if you’re a little late.” To this, Maëlle quickly shook her head back and forth. “No I haf to go, sorry!” Dammit, she said that too quickly and too loudly to be taken seriously. Another round of smiles. One raised their hand and Maëlle flinched when one of them brushed her hair back behind her ear. Lips moved but Maëlle was too distraught to read them as the hand slipped from her face to her blouse, undoing the first button. That was when she began to shout incoherently for them to stop. She tried to twist away, but her arms were wrenched back and pinned to the wall. They were far stronger than she was and she couldn’t pull away. Oh god.

PYXIS ★

[Alfred F. Jones]

feel the light shining in the dark of the night

Alfred had already decided that he absolutely hated England. ...Well, okay, not absolutely hated. But mostly hated. Really hated. ...Strongly disliked. He seriously regretted accepting his boss's offer to come to England. Cooperate with the MI6 a bit, keep them in check, make sure our interests are protected, yada yada. All he'd done in the last two months was try to figure out what the fuck was the difference between the pound and the euro. Or navigate London. Why in the world did they drive on the left side of the street again? He'd worked with the MI6 on a case or two, but they were naturally distrusting of him and he of them. So far Alfred had been rebuked seven times on spelling “colour” as “color” or “grey” as “gray.” Those he could understand. Maybe. But aluminium? ...At least they had cool accents. And Sherlock and Doctor Who weren't that bad. To be honest, he didn't really dislike England. The weather wasn't wonderful and the food was a little questionable, but it was interesting. People were always interesting and although the agents in the MI6 tended to be a little more stiff and a little more paranoid than his colleagues in the CIA, he'd made some friends. Not to mention he was overseas and abroad and it was fun to explore the little parts of London... He'd stayed late after work, finishing paperwork on his latest mission. Alfred held a strong distaste towards paperwork, but it was better to finish it now rather than later. The last bus had left the station and since Alfred wasn't used to driving on the left side of roads quite yet, he was stuck walking. Alfred sighed. England was just...well, England. With his movements now monitored by the MI6, he didn't have a whole lot of exciting work to do. In Kiev, Alfred had had his fill of excitement. Always moving, always gathering intel... Here, Alfred was constantly negotiating, proving that he was trustworthy, that he was a symbol of the U.S. extending a hand of friendship towards the British. An important job, perhaps, but a rather tedious one as well. It felt a little too similar to politics and Alfred was certainly not a politician. Alfred's mind returned back to the task at hand. He did his own work at night. Learning London, figuring out where the streets went and where, which groups frequented which areas. It was important work, details that one could not learn from a map or through word of mouth. Even if he was told, well Alfred could never understand the nooks and crannies of a city if he never took a step into it. It was a little later than usual now, but the last bus had left long ago and he had to make his way home anyways. Alfred wasn't intimidated by dark alleyways or hidden streets. He was well equipped to deal with almost anything that could be thrown his way. Preferably not a full gang—that might be a little difficult—but most people Alfred could deal with. Streetfighting was a little messy and Alfred preferred not to engage in it if necessary, but if it came to it Alfred was confident he could take on most people. Alfred looked up into the sky and sighed. No stars. One thing he'd always been guaranteed in Kiev were stars. London definitely felt safer than Kiev but all of that came at a price. Then, he heard a sound coming from one of the alleys. Alfred froze in his steps. For about half a second he thought he might have imagined it, but it came again and again. Alfred couldn't really make out what the voice was saying, but it was clearly someone in distress or pain. He broke off into a run after the voice. It didn't take Alfred long to locate whoever was making the sound—or rather, where it was coming from. A group of men, crowding in a group, their victim crying out. Three guys obscured the girl from Alfred's view, while another man stood a little out of the group. He was probably the youngest, likely meant to be a lookout, but he was so engrossed in the scene before him and trying to peer over his companions' shoulders that he never even saw Alfred coming. Alfred snagged the man by the back of his hoodie. The man yelped in surprise, a sound that quickly changed to a cry of pain when Alfred punched him in the face. The man backed away, clutching his nose and cursing. Alfred wasted no time. The other men began to turn around to their friend's cries when Alfred had grabbed the back of another man's hoody (really, a poor choice of attire) and gave him a hard punch in the gut. The man doubled over and Alfred aimed another blow for his nose, sending him staggering. Alfred swept the man's feet out from underneath him and he went sprawling onto the ground. Two left, both coming at once. The man on the left wore a beanie, but sadly neither had chosen to wear a hoodie. These two were more alert than the other two (whom Alfred had not knocked out, he was fairly sure, which could pose a problem in a few seconds but he would deal with that when it happened), not to mention taller and more muscular as well. The man on the right swung for him and Alfred dodged to the side. He stepped onto the man's foot to a satisfying crunch and sharp yelp before Alfred jabbed his elbow just below the man's ribcage. Before Alfred could rejoice for long though, Beanie slammed into him and Alfred was caught off balance. Beanie miscalculated and Alfred was still on his feet but the momentary delay allowed for a punch to Alfred's stomach. Alfred moved backwards, wincing and grimacing. That was going to bruise. Alfred went back on offense almost immediately. Everything came instinctually, Alfred's training automatically kicking in. Alfred almost, almost threw a punch towards the man's neck when a small mental note reminded him that this man was a civilian and although what he had been doing was despicable and immoral, death wasn't exactly Alfred's objective. Instead, Alfred aimed for just under the knee before a swift uppercut to the chin. Then, with equal speed, Alfred struck the man's left temple and Beanie man crumpled before him, out like a light. Someone was behind him and Alfred spun to face the first man he'd attacked. To his satisfaction, the man's nose was bleeding. The man wildly threw a punch which Alfred easily sidestepped, before he kneed the man right where it hurt. There was a faint whimper and for good measure, Alfred smacked the man's nose again. Beanie was still unconscious and by now the other three men had backed up. “Just go!” one of the men hissed. The others nodded and ran (or limped) towards the street. Alfred made no move to follow. Alfred turned back to the girl. She looked like a businesswoman, blonde hair pulled back in pigtails, her blouse partially undone, two violet eyes wide behind a large pair of glasses. She still stood at the wall as if in shock, simply staring at the scene in front of her. Alfred walked towards her quickly, trying to look as nonthreatening as he could. Surely the experience had shaken her. He had to make sure she was okay though and that she wasn't going to fall over. Alfred put his hands on her shoulders to make sure she wasn't in shock and was looking him in the eye. A second later, he wondered if that was a mistake—she was probably scared and didn't want to have any kind of contact right now—but Alfred wanted to make sure he could catch her if she passed out. “Hey, you okay?” Alfred asked. Then again, she probably wasn't. “It's okay now. Those guys aren't going to hurt you, okay? You're alright.” Maëlle ■ 1337 ■ <3

MADE BY VEL OF GS

[Maëlle Williams]

♛

I will not bend. i will not break. i'll show you. i'll show you.

Common sense finally commanded Maëlle’s frightened mouth as she motioned to scream for help, or, at least to what she assumed was the loudest volume she could muster. She barely got a second of pitched wails before a hand was clamped over her lips, silencing her cries as her suit jacket was pulled off her shoulders and another few buttons undone. She could feel the tears and fear seizing her as she began to cry. She couldn’t think, not of her regrets about working late, or having missed the last bus. She didn’t think of the taxi she could have taken, the boss she could have messaged, or the shop she could have entered. She didn’t think at all; only raw emotion of what was about to happen to her flooded through her mind. She was going to be raped by these men, and there was nothing she could do about it but cry against the hand on her face. She closed her eyes, as if to hide the horrors of her rapists’ expressions from her mind. And then, as if by magic, the pressure on her face disappeared and the hand retracted. And, before Maëlle could open her watery eyes, her wrists were released as well. Instinct forced her violet hues open, her world blurred behind fat tears. Bodies moved, there was too much happening so fast and Maëlle had nowhere to flee despite every fibre in her body commanding her to run. Her knees felt weak, and she felt as if she were locked and frozen. She needed to move! She needed to run! Instead, she stood with tears in her eyes and an erratic heartbeat as men dropped before her in what appeared to be a brawl. While too terrified to blink, gravity eventually caused Maëlle’s tears to spill down her cheeks and vision to clear. Miraculously, her glasses had remained on her face as she watched a man sidestep her attackers and easily, as if he were not even challenged, taking them down one by one. He moved fluidly, every step taken with intent and purpose. Even outnumbered, he broke down the fight into steps and was able to connect fist, knee, even foot in a perfect manner. It could have been ten men against him; he didn’t appear to be phased by a crowd as the second last man fell, leaving only one hooded figure standing. Maëlle could barely breathe, barely move as she stood petrified with wide eyes. This was not a man who simply fought for recreation. Maëlle dealt with footage of people who fought like this! People who looked focused and emotionless as they avoided carelessly thrown punches and levelled people into the soiled alley. People who chased off a group of four without even a mark on their face or a limp in their stride to prove it. He turned to her, and she could only stare into a pair of piercing blue eyes as he closed the gap between them. Except now she wasn’t watching from behind a camera. Maëlle’s nerves rocketed into motion when he touched her, the contact instantly reminding her of the event that nearly transpired and the terror that accompanied it. She flinched, shaking as she crossed her arms protectively in front of her open blouse. A new rush of fears flooded through her as she considered the possibility of this man continuing where they left off; she didn’t see a police badge or any sort of ID that could give her reassurance of good intentions. She tucked her head against her left shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut as she began to cry again.

PYXIS ★

[Alfred F. Jones]

feel the light shining in the dark of the night

The girl flinched when he touched her, trembling a little as she hastily tried to cover her chest. A wave of guilt immediately swept through Alfred and he let his hands drop to his side. He was still close enough that he could catch her if that became necessary, but he'd forgotten that with the specific nature of this case he shouldn't have tried to steady her. Alfred didn't know her after all, and it wasn't like he was trying to get a person's attention after a traumatic mission. Alfred recalled the emergency number in the UK, 999. He could of course call someone from the police department directly (he'd managed to make a friend or two), but if this girl fainted Alfred would need a paramedic. Alfred glanced back at Beanie. It would be shitty if he woke up. Not that Alfred expected much of a fight. The adrenaline was pumping through him still and if Alfred recalled correctly, Beanie would wake up with a bruised jaw and a pounding headache. Alfred was pretty sure he hadn't broken Beanie's knee, but he figured the man would be limping for at least a day or two. Alfred highly doubted Beanie would even consider trying to launch another attack at Alfred, much less a threatening one. He turned back to the girl instead, who had started crying again. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut and pressed into her shoulder. She hadn't responded at all to Alfred's words, which made him a little worried. She should probably sit down...she'd feel more comfortable if they were somewhere more brightly lit... She wasn't a particularly tall girl, so Alfred leaned down a little so he didn't look as intimidating. “Hey...are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? Do I need to take you to the hospital or something?” She didn't respond to that either. Why, Alfred wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps she was so overwhelmed by the entire experience that she simply couldn't process his words. Maybe she was still scared that something was going to happen to her. Alfred hesitated. Perhaps if he waited it out? Still, he should really get her somewhere safe and well lit, and away from Beanie, if only because it would make her feel better. He wanted to call the police as well. That was more complicated though. Alfred wasn't completely sure how sexual assault cases were treated in the UK, but since it looked like they hadn't managed to go through with what they intended, Alfred doubted they could keep anyone detained for long. He doubted the girl would want to go through that either. Not to mention Alfred personally didn't want to undergo any questioning. It was always best to maintain a low profile. It wasn't like Alfred could just leave this scumbag lying here though. He would call communications at the MI6, have them contact the police instead. They could sort it out and that wouldn't risk his position at all. Yes, that sounded good. Still, Alfred didn't want to do that until he was certain this girl was alright and had put at least a little distance from the scene. He looked back at the girl, hesitantly tapping on her shoulder. That was a less obtrusive gesture, wasn't it? Hopefully she had recovered enough that she could understand he didn't mean to harm her. “Hey...miss. Are you hurt or anything? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” Maëlle ■ 577 ■ Here you go!

MADE BY VEL OF GS

[Maëlle Williams]

♛

I will not bend. i will not break. i'll show you. i'll show you.

Maëlle shook in the man’s hold, trying to make herself melt into the wall to escape from what seemed like a cruel joke. A rescue that lead to yet another assault, oh how the gods hated her. But instead of a hand pulled her arms away, the touch on her shoulders disappeared, leaving only a slight lingering of warmth where they had been placed. Maëlle’s mind questioned the notion as the possibility of the worst situation still ravaged her thoughts. Why would he back off? She tried to slow her shakes as logic trickled through the panic and adrenaline that made any and every assumption that she was going to be hurt or attacked. She was alone, in a dark alley, and evidently he was the only one who had noticed what was happening to her. If he had similar intentions, there was no need to hesitate or back off. She was still completely defenseless, and judging by the manner in which he dealt with the other four men, he could easily overpower her. Maëlle blinked slowly, still cringing against her shoulder as she let her eyes flick down. Shoes. He hadn’t left. But he wasn’t making any motions towards her. … Or was he? Maëlle was so frightened of his actions that she hadn’t really made any attempts at reading his lips, or making any communicative gesture for that matter. She didn’t cry for him to go away or leave her alone like the last men, and it didn’t really dawn on her that she hadn’t spoken. Had he? Maëlle jumped a tad when there was a gentle tap on her shoulder, flicking her eyes open and over to him. This time, she understood. He was asking if she was alright, and if she needed a doctor. The relief swept through Maëlle’s head like a dam had burst. He, whoever he was, wasn’t trying to hurt her. He was in fact offering to take her to a hospital. He… was just a good person, saving a stupid girl who had made an incredibly stupid decision. She blinked twice, before speaking in her unusual accented words. “I’m…. I’m okay. Th-…” Before she had the time to thank this man for his incredible act, she felt the feeling in her stumps and knees drain from her body and her vision tunnel, black encroaching from the edges until it swallowed up the remaining light and colour until she was left in complete darkness. She fainted.

PYXIS ★

[Alfred F. Jones]

feel the light shining in the dark of the night

Alfred realized she was fainting a split second before it happened. He'd seen many men faint before. It was more common than you'd expect. Movies rarely got these things right. It wasn't just the damsel in distress that passed out. Alfred had seen people pass out from fear, from blood loss, from shock. That had never been the case for Alfred, thanks to thorough training from the government, but he'd certainly seen it happen. The girl's body went limp as she crumpled. Alfred reached out, scooping her legs out from under her as they buckled. Her head lolled to the side and Alfred took care to make sure her glasses stayed put on her face. ...Well, this complicated matters. Alfred was drawing a blank on exactly what to do with this girl. He supposed the first step was to get this girl somewhere well-lit and then tell the MI6 to call the police. She was surprisingly light. Perhaps that shouldn't have been so surprising, given her stature. She was slim, and short. Usually when Alfred dealt with unconscious men or women, they were typically heavier, built of more muscle and taller as well. Oh well, it made Alfred's work easier. Alfred began to make his way out of the alley. As he walked past Beanie, the man grunted. Alfred gave him another kick to the head for good measure. That should keep him unconscious for a bit. Hopefully the London police responded quickly, especially to requests from the MI6. The streets were well-lit, their steady light illuminating the cobblestone roads. Why this girl had decided to venture into the alley, Alfred had no idea. It wasn't really his place to judge either. For all he knew they had dragged her in there. It was a good thing that Alfred had come along when he had. Alfred set the girl gently down on the street, unsure of what else to do with her while he called. There were no benches or seating of the like that Alfred could rest her on, so it would have to do for now. Alfred pulled out his phone and dialed in a number quickly. “Hello? Yes, this is Jones...I'd like to call in an attempted rape on Bedford Avenue. There's an unconscious man here...yes, I'm responsible for that. You'll send the police? Great. Also...” Alfred faltered a little as he heard the girl stir. “Hold that thought,” he said into the phone as he crouched down next to the girl. “Hi,” he said, smiling at her. “You okay? You've been through a lot, passed out...do you need me to take you to the hospital?” Maëlle Williams  ■ 439 ■ pls don't faint again tyvm

MADE BY VEL OF GS