POA ch009 — Stay with Felicity

Summary: Felicity spills the beans. The Scout acquires a target. Who’s telling this story, anyway?

Author's Notes: Shit.

Content Warnings: Insectoid monsters.

Henry shifts his weight to go after Ash, to make sure they’re okay. His instincts are telling him to run, that something is very, very wrong with Felicity. But, within him, something else feels different, seeing that dark hand wrap around Felicity’s neck. A sense of togetherness. A sense of triumph.

Henry shakes himself, disgusted. His weight shifts. But, then, his legs are not his own, and he finds himself stuck by Felicity’s side. He nearly trips as his muscles tense, preventing him from leaving. Henry recognizes the feeling now.

Guess we’re staying then, huh? Henry thinks at you. Alright, fine. But we’re talking to Ash later.

As soon as Henry moves to kneel beside Felicity, his muscles are his own again. His lip curls, gratified that he’s beginning to understand how this all works.

I shouldn’t be learning to deal with this, Henry thinks. I should be figuring out how to get rid of it.

First, though, Felicity.

“Right,” Henry says aloud.

Felicity is sitting, crumpled, on the ground, her face pressed to her hands, tucked between her knees and her torso. She is shaking all over. That curling presence — which Henry felt more than saw — has retreated, and he can tell that she is in control of herself once more. Henry kneels beside her, pressing one hand against her back.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Henry murmurs quietly to her.

“I-I—” Felicity stammers.

Someone comes to stand over them, blocking out the sun.

“Is everything alright here?” Asks a smooth voice.

The businessman, the one he’d seen earlier, has come down Little Clarendon street from the opposite direction. He has one Airpod pulled from his ear and is holding his briefcase in hand. Gazing into the man’s neutral face, Henry all at once feels a kind of deep-rooted camaraderie well up in him, as though he knows this man well — too well to truly like him.

But Henry has never met this man before today.

With a pleased little smirk, as though sharing a joke, the man offers, “Shall I call 999?”

“No, thank you, we’re alright,” Henry replies curtly. “I’m handling it.”

The businessman smiles. “Very well. Good day.”

He replaces his Airpod and then continues on his way.

Henry looks back down at Felicity, reaching a tentative hand out to her shoulder.

“I-I’m sorry,” Felicity murmurs. “I— are you alright?”

“It’s okay,” Henry replies. Focused on Felicity, he does not see, in his peripheral vision, the businessman melt into the shadows at the end of the street. “I’m more worried about you right now. Are you alright? Are you— you know?”

“Yes, I’m— it’s done now. We have some time before the next, I suspect.”

“What?”

She meets his eyes and smiles wanly. “I forget how little you’ve figured out.”

This brings a blush of frustration to Henry’s face. “Can you stop being so cryptic?”

Felicity laughs, a bright and tinkling sound, like rain upon a pond. Henry helps her to her feet and settles her at their table. A staff member comes out from behind the bar and delivers two cups of water.

“Everything okay out here?” he asks. Henry searches his face, seeking that same feeling had before, with the businessman. Here, though, there is only the gentle concerned expression of another stressed barista.

“Yes, I’m alright now,” Felicity says. She shrugs. “Thank you for the water. I really appreciate it.”

Thankfully, people are incredibly adept at staying out of each other’s business. Everyone else in the cafe has gone back to their conversations, shooting nothing more than the occasional uneasy glance at Henry and Felicity.

“Right,” Felicity says, reaching for the remainder of her sausage roll. “First off, I’m so sorry about your friend.”

Henry sighs. “Thanks. I’m definitely gonna need some kind of explanation for what happened just now. But, yeah… that’s Ash for you. They— well. They’ve been acting kinda weird lately.”

Felicity gives Henry a pitying look that might be translated as you silly man.

“What?” Henry asks, gently affronted.

“Nothing,” Felicity says, tucking her smirk away. “Men.”

“Oh, Ash isn’t—”

“I know. They/them, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I picked up on…” She waves her hand in a circular motion at Henry, and then at where Ash had approached. “…all that.”

Henry waits for Felicity to explain what she means, but instead she takes a fortifying sip of tea and reaches up to fiddle with one large gold hoop earring.

“Right,” She says. “So. I don’t— I don’t know much, but evidently more than you.”

Henry straightens, listening intently. Felicity gathers her thoughts and then speaks, counting off on her fingers.

“The… the possessions, as it were, come in intervals. You won’t be possessed for longer than it takes to complete a specific and discrete action, unless you try especially hard to resist it, but that basically just slows the process down. And hurts, most of the time. Usually it’s not more than a minute or two, although my longest one was— well.” Felicity coughs and then moves along. “Sometimes days pass between each event, but usually I have at least one per day. Sometimes more. My theory is that he has to, er, take a rest, so to speak. Recharge. Or recalibrate? I’m not entirely sure. Have you reached true indecision yet?”

“Well, I did once pass out from a splitting headache,” Henry replies.

Felicity nods. “Yeah! That’s what that was. He,” Felicity’s eyes shoot to the space above Henry’s shoulder. “couldn’t decide what to do, and the strain knocked you right out. Same thing happened to me once.”

“Not fun,” Henry agrees. “Alright. What else?”

Felicity looks sheepish now. “Well. That’s where I’m at, I guess. I— I don’t have any answers for how to stop it. Best I can figure, there’s no way for us to resist when they take over, so our best case scenario is to figure out how to get rid of them. There’s also… well. Sometimes I get the feeling that there’s more to it than all that. Like, when you mentioned that you felt like there were multiple beings— I’ve felt that too. But I don’t know how that would work.”

That’s about what Henry expected. It doesn’t make him any less frustrated.

“Have you tried asking the doc what to do?”

Felicity twitches. Her expression hardens. “I haven’t. I don’t trust her. I want to figure out what they actually did, when they put us under, but they won’t release the records because it’ll ‘skew the data.’”

Henry snorts. “That sounds like them. I— I would maybe talk to Seonjae, though. The lab tech? She seemed… more trustworthy.”

“I tried to. John didn’t like it. Had me come to talk to you instead.”

Henry startles. “Mine, too!”

Felicity and Henry look at each other, invisible understanding passing between them. The moment breaks, and Henry hurriedly takes a sip of his coffee. It’s gone cold.

“How odd,” Felicity says. “I reckon that can’t really be a good sign, but it has been nice to talk to you.”

“Same,” Henry agrees. “Um. So, about punching Ash…?”

“Right! Right,” Felicity says. “I am so sorry about that. I guess John had fully re-calibrated, and— well. I’m not sure why he chose that, but I felt his anger just come over me in a rush! I think mine is rather an angry creature.”

“Huh,” Henry says. “Mine’s mostly just tried to communicate with me using a spirit board. A-and helped me decide to text you.”

Felicity stares at him.

“What?”

“That’s— you have no idea how lucky you are.”

Henry scoffs. “Well. Perhaps compared to you. Maybe you should take John to an anger management course.”

Felicity bursts out laughing. “That’ll go over well. ‘Hello. Oh, me? No, no, I’m fine, it’s the voice in my head that needs the help.”

Henry giggles. It feels… good, to laugh and giggle about this, after the harrowing concern and pity and guilt he’s been getting from Ash and Naomi. He almost feels normal, sat beside Felicity.

“Do you… do you believe in the supernatural?” Henry asks. “Y’know. Ghosts and stuff. I-I’m not religious, but, like, demons? Or monsters? E-even the Fae?”

“Nope!” Felicity waves the notion away quickly. “I mean, I totally get why you would. Us, of all people, should, right? My parents were a little superstitious. Some wild combination of French and Nigerian beliefs. They were scientists, though, and not especially religious, so it was kind of a surprise when I realized that they were actually serious about some of that stuff.”

As she speaks, Felicity’s right hand absent-mindedly finds her left plan and gently itches at it.

“I get it,” Henry says. “I was the same way. Maybe— maybe not that strongly. I was never religious or anything, but if you’d pressed me, I guess I’d say I believe in some things. Ghosts, maybe, although I’ve never seen one.” Henry’s voice takes on a simple fondness. “If I’ve learned anything from Naomi — my housemate, who’s a physics major specializing in quantum physics stuff — it’s that it’s, like, mathematically possible for other universes to exist. Maybe we wound up in the boring one.”

Felicity nods. “Well, if John does come from another plane of existence, he knows quite enough about ours to make my life a living hell.”

“No offense,” Felicity adds, as an afterthought, to her shoulder.

“Tell me about it.”

Henry sips his cold coffee, taps his fingers against the ceramic.

“I think I… I saw something today?”

As Henry describes the insectoid creature that simply could not exist, horror dawns in her face.

“It was— it looked like a really big bug, at first. But such a dark black, like a void, or like the furthest reaches of space. I don’t know. I’ve never heard of anything like it. And it had a hundred legs, I feel like. As big and fat as my torso.”

“What?!”

“I’m not kidding!” Henry insists.

Felicity still looks skeptical, but she nods.

“No, really,” Henry insists. “I saw it. And it— it chased me down the street!”

“Damn, Henry! That sounds terrifying!” Felicity exclaims, her fingers fiddling with a bit of napkin, slowly ripping it into small bits. “What did you do?”

“I— well. When I got around the corner, it had vanished.”

“It… vanished?” Felicity says, and now there’s no mistaking it — she doesn’t believe him.

“Yeah,” Henry laughs awkwardly. He’s lost his momentum, faced with her politely concealed disbelief. His smile folds like an abandoned page of notes, crumpled and tossed in the recycling. “It was super weird.”

“Hm. Well, maybe I’m just in denial,” Felicity continues, plainly trying to throw him a bone. “But I think, even though all this weird stuff has been happening, there has to be a… a scientific explanation for all of it. Even if that explanation is, like, super weird, there must be something. I mean, okay, it’s like you say. I’ve been looking into the study, right? It’s a cross between the physics department — specifically an astrophysics guy — and the neuro department.”

“Yeah,” Henry adds. “Naomi has the physics prof as an advisor.”

“But, so, why would they include someone like that on the study?”

“I have no idea.”

Felicity and Henry reach the end of their conversation. They run through what they know several more times before they end up simply going in circles, Henry’s coffee merely dregs and Felicity’s pot of tea emptied. The napkin Felicity was fiddling with ends up ripped into a thousand tiny pieces as they tossed the meager information they’ve gleaned back and forth.

“Well,” Henry says, once the silence feels final, “This has been so nice.”

“Yeah. It has. It’s nice to talk to someone who’s going through something similar. I-I’d like to apologize to Ash, if I get the chance,” Felicity says sheepishly. “I don’t know why I— why John lashed out at them. Have they done anything to piss off a totally scientifically-backed eldritch entity of some kind?”

Henry chuckles. “It sounds like something they’d do, but… no, I don’t think so. I think they’d appreciate an apology. L-let me talk to them first, though. I’ll text you? Maybe you can come by sometime soon, and meet Naomi, as well. I think you’d like her.”

Felicity smiles. “Me, too. Erm. And hopefully I won’t feel some horrible urge to attack her, too.”

“Hopefully,” Henry says. “That would make things even more awkward.”

Felicity and Henry say their goodbyes, and Henry turns to make his way back home, in search of Ash.

…

When Henry arrives back at their home, Naomi and Ash are both home.

Henry presses the door open. Ash has a pouch of frozen peas pressed to their nose and a stray smudge of red blood still lingers on their chin. There’s a cloth grocery bag resting off to the side, and Naomi is on her laptop on the couch.

“Ash,” Henry says. “I’m so sorry, are you— are you alright?”

“Bit sore,” Ash replies, their voice croaky and nasally. ”Is Felicity alright? She did not look good when I—”

“When you fled in terror?” Henry finishes, unimpressed.

Ash looks unbearably guilty, their shoulders hunching in as though trying to disappear beneath the Tesco frozen veg. “Yeah. I’m— I couldn’t stay, it— it was him, Hen. The same one I— you know.”

The frustration leaves Henry, and his shoulders relax down.

“I know, bud. Felicity recovered. She wanted me to pass on her apology — she’d like to give you one in person, but she wasn’t sure she’d be welcome just now.”

“That’d be nice,” Ash agrees stiffly.

An awkward silence.

“Ash, can we… can we talk?” Henry asks. “Upstairs?”

Ash nods and gets up, following Henry up the stairs. Naomi follows them with her eyes, but makes no comment. Henry is lost in thought as they climb, and does not notice her getting up and crossing over to the cloth grocery bag.

Henry and Ash sit down on Henry’s bed, facing each other. Ash lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Ugh,” Ash mumbles. “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have crashed your date.”

“Okay, first of all,” Henry says, “I forgive you, considering you did get fully punched in the nose. I’m glad you’re okay. Second of all, that wasn’t a date!”

Ash blinks. “It wasn’t?”

“No!” Henry says. “I— you really think I could pull someone like Felicity?”

This line of reasoning does not appear to placate Ash. In fact, they appear to be steadily losing a fight with their frown, and it only deepens. Henry makes another attempt.

“No, look— I just wanted to talk to Felicity because she’s another patient in the study, and I thought she might be able to explain some things to me.”

“Oh.” A brilliant blush dusts Ash’s cheekbones. “Did she?”

Henry sighs. “Some. She’s had a similar experience, although hers was apparently worse than mine. She wouldn’t say why. She also thinks there’s a scientific explanation for how this all works. She doesn’t really believe in the supernatural.”

“Huh,” Ash says. “Well. You know my thoughts on the topic.”

“Yeah,” Henry chuckles. “I don’t know yet. I can’t decide. I mean, I never really believed in all this before — although I believe you, of course! And now… I-I mean, with the spirit board? It’s hard to deny. Still, there could be a scientific explanation, I suppose.”

“Maybe,” Ash replies. “My dad always says that ‘magic exists, it’s just science we don’t understand yet.’”

“Well, when your dad figures out how to exorcize me, let me know.”

Ash snorts. “He’s not the scientist of the family. Nor, like, a priest or whatever. Mum’s the one who’ll figure out how to undo weird brain curses.”

“She’s a neuroscientist, right?”

“Yeah. She’s why I wanted to study psychology.”

They lapse into silence. Henry tilts sideways until his head bonks against Ash’s shoulder.

“Why did you feel the need to crash my not-date?” Henry asks.

“Oh, um, uh, well,” Ash stammers. “Um. I-I mean, I guess I just wanted to suss this lady out, you know? I didn’t mean to… um.”

“To be a bit of an ass?”

“Yeah,” Ash says. “That. I was just looking out for you, I guess.”

“Alright,” Henry says. “Note for the future: I don’t need looking after.”

“Says the guy who got himself cursed in a neuro study.”

“Says the person who convinced me to do it!” Henry exclaims, sitting up just enough to shove Ash to the side playfully.

Ash flinches. “Touché.” They look properly distraught at the reminder.

“I don’t blame you for that,” Henry reminds them. “I made the choice to do it.”

“Sure it wasn’t your friend up there?” Ash asks, gesturing above Henry’s shoulder.

“Nah. I’m pretty sure that was a direct result of the study, not the cause of it.”

Ash tilts sideways and rests their head on top of Henry’s for a moment. They breathe in deeply, and both Ash and Henry exhale at the same time. Henry feels remarkably calm, now, tucked against Ash. As though something in him is complete.

Then, Henry becomes aware of an odd scratching sound outside his bedroom door. There’s a gentle shuffling, and then a shaking sound, as though someone is sifting sand in a sieve.

“What—?”

Henry gets up, images of strange shuffling, scuttling creatures stalking him all the way back to his bedroom.

“Oh, um, Henry, we—”

As his hand reaches for the handle to his bedroom door, something goes tat-tat-tat against his window.

Henry and Ash turn, and Ash shrieks.

Pressing up against the window is the insectoid monster Henry had seen the other day.

“What the fuck is that?!” Ash shouts shrilly. Their arm comes out to grasp Henry’s in a death-grip and yank him backwards.

Tap-tap-tap, the creature makes, with spindly, glistening insectoid legs.

“I— I saw it earlier!” Henry gasps. “It was— down by the Oxford University Press.”

Ash snorts despite the gravity of the situation. “Call it a bookworm.”

“Ash.”

“Sorry.”

“Guys?” Naomi’s voice came through the doorway. “What’s going on?”

“Abort mission, Naomi!” Ash shouts back.

“Mission?!” Henry says, cowering back against Ash as they back away from the window. “Naomi, were you eavesdropping?”

“No. I was pouring salt outside your door.”

“You what?”

Tap-tap-tap, the creature knocks politely.

“No it is not,” Henry snaps.

“What?” Ash yelps.

“It is not knocking politely!”

“Who said anything about knocking?”

But the next tap-tap-tap is accompanied by a squeaky cracking sound.

And then the window shatters.

Poll 

Image Description: A screenshot of a poll at the bottom of a Patreon post, with two options. Option One — Fight. Option Two — Flight. Initializing... Polling... Fifty-six percent, fight. Forty-four percent, flight. We have chosen to fight.

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Points of Articulation is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution NonCommercial ShareAlike 4.0 International License. It is written and created by Hannah Semmelhack, with beta-reading by Fiona Clare.