Disclaimer: I own nothing but any added characters that may pop up. Human Target belongs to DC, FOX, and everyone else's hands that it's been passed through. The characters belong to them as well and also all those who played the characters!
Authoress Note: So someone – point to self – decided to watch her top five favorite episodes of HT in a row and came up with this after watching one of these five and was like "Hellz yeah I ill write this" and created what you see before you… Yeah, lol.
This can also be blamed on listening to "Hall of Fame" by The Script ft Will. … You know Mr. I Am has become like the old Nicki Minaj of music and is seeming to pop up with every artist out there these days. Just like Nicki Minaj use to… Speakin' of Nicki, "Va Va Voom" started playing and is a very helpful song… Huzzah!... I love variety so no judgy my music lol ;P
Aplomb… Adagio… Plie… Relevé… Pirouette… Sissonne! Aplomb… Adagio… Plie… Relevé… Pirouette… Sissonne! Aplomb… Adagio… Plie… Relevé… Pirouette… Sissonne!
Over and over again she repeated this chant as her body moved to the words in her head until they were overlapping, becoming a chant that silenced all other noise, echoing loudly in her skull. Her body moved with the words, never loosing stride, never stopping. This was what she had been taught. She would go until she couldn't and then she was ready to move on. This balanced her body, This was what she needed to do.
Her mind had been a turmoil of anger and hatred. She was losing herself in that anger and her usual outlets just weren't cutting it! She needed out fast or… Or who knows what she'd say or do! Aplomb… Adagio… Plie… Relevé… Pirouette… Sissonne! Aplomb… Adagio… Plie… Relevé… Pirouette… Sissonne!
Sweat poured down her body, soaking her. She didn't care. Her limbs were screaming in agony. She didn't care. The echo was growing louder and louder and thrumming like lightning drums in her ear! She didn't care. Faster and faster and faster she kept going!
"…Ames….. Ames… AMES!" in the distance a voice cut through and she crashed, hitting the floor hard on her knees, her hands catching herself to keep herself from slamming her face into the ground. She panted and dug her nails into the hardwood floor of the training room, sweat dripping and soaking the floor. Her breathing came in sharp, painful pants and she quivered, her eyes blurring and trying to refocus. She'd been so far gone…
She didn't pay any mind to the frantic heels of Ilsa clicking or the stomping of Winston's feet as they reached her. Ilsa's cold hand found her shoulder and the shock of the cold caused her to draw back sharply and tense before slowly being able to sag her shoulders and slowly lift her head to look at them. Look at them and see the fear and worry in their eyes.
Behind Ilsa was a mirror and for the first time she looked at herself, looking over Ilsa's shoulder. Her hair was a mess, her body glistened with sweat, her body shaking violently, and her expression lost… Like how she felt. Seeing such a lost expression and having the lost and angry feeling attempt to seep back into her bones caused her to choke and lower her head. Her shoulders hitched as she let out a choked sob and shook her head. Why? Why? Why, why, why, why, why?! "Why!" she screamed, her voice croaking as she fell into Ilsa's arms and cried and cried until she blacked out.
When she awoke… She felt nothing. Numb. That's what she felt numb. She was aware of her body attempting to feel but she could grasp nothing. Ilsa forbid her from going up to the training room again and after looking at her feet – which were bloodied and ripped up – Ames accepted without a fight.
When she was able to move on her feet again, Ames simply moved from the guest bedroom bed of Chance's loft and sat by the window and stared up at the sky. Why? She kept asking herself that. Why did it have to happen? To her? Guerrero or Chance or even Ilsa would have been better to handle this but she…. She couldn't… Her body hitched and she fought down the urge to cry as feeling tried to claw through the numb shell she'd forced around herself. No! She didn't want to… She couldn't anymore!
Burrying her head into her knees, Ames turned her head and stared out the window. She stayed their all day and through half the night, barely eating and barely getting anymore restful sleep. For two days she did this. She ignored Chance as he tried to comfort her, ignored Ilsa's mothering, ignored Winstons awkward attempts, and wasn't surprised that all Guerrero did was come in and make sure she ate. He didn't leave the room til she ate every damn bite before grabbing her tray and walking off. He wasn't a comforter and Ames didn't expect him to start now on her behalf.
When night time would roll around, Ames found herself starring at the sky, wishing the city lights woul all shut off so she could see the stars and feel like she could touch the moon. With no stars, all Ames could see were airplanes shooting across the sky or satalites beeping from space… Or the face of a child who'd never be anymore… And her body would lock up and she'd fight the tears and curl in bed, waking up to throw up or sit up in bed and stare at the wall.
Why?... Why… Why…?
"So… Wait… Why am I here?"
Eddie Dunn was not the smartest guy out there, and he'd admit it. He wsn't dumb! He was just… Not that good at thinking all the time. If given a chance he could but most people didn't have patience for that except his mother and sometimes his little sister. Otherwise he'd just annoy people and they'd snap at him, thinkin him dumb. But like he said, he wasn't dumb!
Chance sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Eddie was an odd choice… It had been Guerrero's idea, oddly. When Chance had asked, Guerrero had looked at Ames's door and then at Chance before simply stating "cause she needs it, dude" and walked off with his stuff as Eddie came up the elevator.
Chance looked at Eddie and then at Ames's door. "We had a bad mission a few days ago. Friend of ours isn't handling it so well and we figured you'd know a good way for them to let off some issues, steam if you will. I have a few but they involve a gun or meditation and that isn't going to get through to her," he explained slowly to Eddie, who nodded. He found that nodding helped people know that yeah, he was getting it.
"Oh…" Eddie said, looking at the door before Chance. "Okay… Sounds like they just need a punching bag and someone to get them angry, ya know? When I hit a real low after a bad season, couch always told me to beat the crap out of the punching bag til I couldn't stand or feel my knuckles… Whichever came first.. Then he said to just say everything that pissed me off… Helped me," Eddie shrugged, "maybe it'll help your friend?"
Chance blinked and raised a brow. Really? That seemed so simple… He could've thought of that!... And yet he hadn't… Oh. Nice, Guerrero. Chance nodded, the pieces falling into place. Chance and Guerrero were not what Ames needed. They needed someone on a simpler level who wouldn't really ask questions just do what they know best. Eddie knew fighting and anger because anger helped you fight if channeled right... Ames needed a channel right now and Eddie was her perfect station.
"You bring your gloves?" Chance asked, causing Eddie to nod slowly. "Uh, yeah… Guy said to bring em," he stated, pointing the way Guerrero went. Chance nodded. "Good… Imma need your help," he stated, motioning Eddie to follow him upstairs. Eddie looked around before shrugging and following after Chance.
Ames stared at the dark blue gloves at her feet. Boxing gloves? She looked from the gloves to Chance and frowned, her expression clearing asking "why do I need these?" and Chance gave a small smile. "Just trust me, okay?" he asked, turning to leave with a smile, "and put those on and meet me upstairs!" With that he was gone, leaving Ames alone with the gloves.
Staring at them for awhile, Ames reached out and grabbed them, slowly sliding them on. A perfect fit. Looking at her gloved hands once more, Ames slid off her bed and put on her tennis shoes and slid out of her room, heading upstairs, hearing Carmine following behind her, curious as she was starting to feel.
At the top of the stairs Ames stepped into the training room… And found not Chance, but some red haired guy with scruff on his face wearing gym shorts and a tank top. His body rippled as he slammed his fist in a seemingly rhythmic motion into the new punchbag hanging from the ceiling now in the center of the room. She stood there and pushed her hair out of her face and frowned.
Suddenly the guy came to a stop and he turned to look at her. He had a relaxed grin on his face that made him look almost kiddish. He grabbed the bag and stopped it from moving before turning to her. "Ames… Right?" he asked and she slowly nodded after a beat or two. He beamed and motioned her over. Ames stood still, not moving at first before his childishly hopeful eyes had her feet moving. "I'm Eddie… I'm a friend of Chance. He saved my ass a year or so back… Uh… Heard you needed some help so he asked me to.. Help," he explained and Ames frowned, stepping back.
"Not scared are you?" he asked, suddenly not sounding like the childish dufus. His expression was serious nd confident and his arms crossed. Ames glared, suddenly mad. Who the hell was this guy? She didn't know him. How dare he call her scared! "No," she said and her grinned. "Prove it," he said, sounding mocking, which flared Ames's slow growing anger that had been bottled inside.
"She straightened as best she could and glared at him. "Fine," she said and he pushed the punching bag to her. "Show me what you can do. Hit it. Hit it with all you got and don't stop. See how long you can last," he said with a shrug and Ames could see the challenging look of "bet you can't last that long" that caused her to round on the bag and swing.
Her fist stung a little at first but as she swung the other, the pain switched. Swinging both fist over and over, Ames suddenly felt as if she were back here dancing. Aplomb… Adagio… Plie… Relevé… Pirouette… Sissonne! It was as if she was dancing with her fist. So much was pouring out with each hard slam into the bag.
BAM! A gunshot… BAM! A scream of despair… BAM! The crack of a loder gunshot… BAM! Blood splatting the floor… BAM! Lifeless eyes… BAM! BAM! BAM! Over and over they flashed and soon they were blurred by tears. Tears of pain and release and anger. Her breathing was heavy and her wrist and fist hurt but she kept swinging. Behind the bag Eddie held it in place, keeping it from swinging around. He didn't say anything he just watched and held the bag.
Ames wasn't sure how long it went on but she swung until she couldn't lift her arms and the adrenaline – the anger – inside her before was gone and she dropped her arms and sobbed. Eddie looked at the bag then at Ames. "Wanna talk about it?" he asked as she sat down. He stood before her and she slowly looked at him. "I don't even like know you," she whispered and Eddie shrugged. "Yeah… So? Coach once told me a stranger is sometimes easier to talk to cause they can't really judge you because they don't know ya… Or something like that…" he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he took off his gloves.
Ames looked down at her hands and winced as she took off her gloves and let them drop to the floor, rubbing her knuckled. "…I… It was supposed to be another mission… But I messed up," she began and Eddie stood and listened just like his coach use to listen to him.
This went on for a month. Eddie would come and teach Ames the basics and she'd wail on the bag… And Ames taught Eddie dance. He'd been weirded out at first, thinking it was just for chicks, but Ames had gotten him pretty good at the basics… And he'd excitedly told her that some of that jumping around crap had helped him in his last match.
By the end of the month, Eddie and her were sitting up and watching old movies. Turns out Eddie was a fan of old school films because his gramps and coach had liked them. And Ames had found someone to cry with while watching Old Yeller and munching down chips and eating ice cream.
As Chance watched the two argue over whether to watch William Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet or Wrong Turn 3 – Eddie had a thing for cheesy scary movies – he smirked and had to hand it to Guerrero. That had been a pretty smart idea before heading upstairs with Carmine as Ilsa suggested they watch both.
End!... R&R Plz?
Okay so the ending is hella cheesy/weird but I like it. Hey I'm a cheesy gal and sometimes I gotta give cheese back to y'all! Okay? Okay!
… So… Eddie… Yep! Eddie.. .Oh come on! Eddie is adorable! Him and JD – The dude from Dead Head whose name I always forget – were my two fav male protectees because they were adorable and clueless and not dames lol. Plus Eddie had good chem with the guys. He was dumb and lovable and a good guy who could crack all their skulls in – especially possibly Guerrero's after the smacking thing if he could lay a hand on him – and he was just good. I don't know how else to put it. I just adored him!
Plus it's Dash Mihok! He's adorable. Loved him in Romeo and Juliet, Pushing Daises, and Pearl!