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Antipathy

Summary:

The Diamond Cutters — under the insistence of Tangle the Lemur — has been brought back, despite the protests of the last member of the old generation Whisper the Wolf. She still harboured bad memories of the demise of the previous members, who were nothing less of family to her. Unfortunately and expectedly enough, the resurgence of the mercenary group was bound to reopen dormant wounds within her.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

I - There is No Illusion Greater than Fear

 

Tangle felt the weight of the world she carried on her weary back. Soul-crushing. 

It had changed hands many times, and yet she still dreaded the time it passed back to her. She could not shirk away, for her chains were not tangible. 

Beads of sweat form an elegant necklace down her temples. All eyes were on her; she could hardly breathe from the deafening silence. She begged for just one voice to shatter the suffocating immersion, but no one would rescue her from drowning in her own morbid thoughts. 

This could mean the end of years of dedication. The new age of death and destruction. And she would be the one responsible for her own undoing.

She had to do it, once and for all. 

The die was in her hand — and all she had to do was toss it. 

“12.”

“Roll again, Tangle.”

“A 5.. How much is that..?”

“..17?”

“..oh MY GOSH! I DID IT! I CROSSED ALL THE HOTELS!! I PASSED GO!! I’M FREE!!”

Tangle waved her hands erratically in the air, accompanied with controlled manic leaps so as to not send the whole board on the floor flying alongside her. Tokens and pieces scattered across the board perform a disorganised dance with every tremor felt. 

“Do calm down, Tangle.” Lanolin smiled uneasily as she held onto the box casing resting nearby, lest the exuberant celebrator thought of using the bank reserve as confetti. “Here’s your 200 dollars.”

As Tangle basked in her moment of joyous victory, she took a glimpse of the person who had commanded her fate just moments ago, staring at the board in a dazed manner. After a brief zoning out he finally cracked open a smile, and it was genuine.

“Nice one, Tangle.” The feline, the new recruit, congratulated her in good faith. He adjusted the soft scarf wrapped warmly around his neck as he applauded Tangle’s triumph. The dampened claps his soft mittens made were as gentle as his show of sportsmanship. 

“You have no idea how much this meant to me,” Tangle was gasping for air when she finally stopped trying to bounce into orbit, but still grinning from ear to ear. 

“I had like… what? Only ten bucks to my name? The first roll sailed me through all those hotels in Yellow and Green, my landing in Park Place didn’t count, and my second bailed me out of Boardwalk! I even got to pass GO! Now I have 210 bucks to my name!!”

“You should stop investing so much in your Brown properties, Tangle.” Lanolin noted as she put away the money stacks in the bank reserve. 

“No no, you don’t understand.” Tangle turned to Lanolin. “I read somewhere online saying it’s mathematically proven that players tend to land on the Brown ones!!”

“Well, be it as it may, but your hotel on Atlantic Avenue earns triple the hotel in Baltic.” 

“True, true. I’m getting it back. Been on mortgage for Chaos knows how long now!”

“Don’t forget to take your Community Chest card.” Lanolin handed her the deck.

“Oh yeah. Thanks.” 

In the midst of the vibrant atmosphere, memories of the previous tension persisted in a sombre Whisper. She stared at the fan of play money she continuously reshuffled and rearranged from her fingertips. She didn’t seem to have taken notice of Tangle's miraculous survival and the subsequent fanfare.

“Nice! A Get Out of Jail Free card! Never seen this for ages, weirdly enough.” Tangle did a fist pump as she happily added the card to her bundle of cash.

“I’ll give 100 dollars for that.” The scarfed feline waved a note to Tangle’s direction as he smiled innocently. 

“Oh no you don’t. I earned this.” Tangle whisked up the card again. “Try landing on Community Chest! You might get lucky.”

“Hm. You’re right.” The feline pondered before keeping his money. “Should invest in more hotels.”

“Erm.. on second thought…” Tangle hesitated as she reilluminated the card, smiling sheepishly. “I’ll take the cash. You already own the eastern side of the board, my guy.”

“No, I’ve decided to develop further.” The feline politely pushed away Tangle’s offering hand and gave her a teasing grin. “But thanks.”

“Whisperrr…” Tangle turned to her partner in a pleading voice, who sat beside her. “Help me take back this trade deal I accidentally turned away from without thinking twice.”

Whisper declined to respond.

“Whisper?” Tangle dropped her act. “You alright?”

It seemed that Tangle’s voice of concern broke the wolf away from her thoughts, as she was momentarily startled. “Mhm. Sorry.”

“What’s wrong? You were quiet this entire game.” She placed a comforting hand on Whisper’s shoulder.

“It’s… nothing. Had a bit of a sore throat.” Whisper’s diminished voice was barely audible when it was already low enough in the past. She tried clearing her throat with a weak attempt.

“Ah, poor you.” Tangle nodded as she turned to face the sliding doors of the balcony they had their game by. She shielded her eyes as she had a good look of the bright cloudless sky. “No wonder either. We got so used to winter and spring, summer’s heat waves hit us before we knew it.”

“Agreed. I myself feel rather thirsty.” Lanolin panted as she stuck her tongue out. “Unfortunate that the air conditioning had to break down last week.”

“How about I go grab a few drinks to freshen ourselves up as we continue the game? I plan to get myself a nice smoothie with ice cream.” Tangle stood up excitedly, indulging in the idea more than the rest of the party. “This game is far from over, and I plan to finish it! What would you guys want?”

“A glass of iced water, thanks.” The feline smiled. 

“...just water.” Whisper mumbled. 

“Oh c’mon, Whisp. You’re gonna give yourself heat stroke at this point. Something colder?” Tangle bent down to face her partner who looked like she returned to submerging herself in her thoughts.

“...fine. Chilled water.”

“I’ll come with you, Tangle.” Lanolin picked herself up from the floor as well, unsure her motive being out of kindness or concern for Tangle’s ability to handle full volumes of liquid at a time.

“Alrighty then, you guys hang back and relax while we prepare your drinks!” Tangle waved enthusiastically to the rest of the party as she walked away with Lanolin to the kitchen, to which the scarfed feline gave a thumbs up. Whisper resumed her brooding. 

“We do still have ice cream, right?” Tangle leaned over to Lanolin.

“Erm, if the fridge is still working, yes.” Lanolin scratched her woolly head. “The power short circuited last night.”

“Oh crud.”


II - Fear is Only as Deep as the Mind Allows

 

The new recruit happily unfurled his scarf from his neck to fold it, perhaps experiencing a psychological effect from Tangle’s words of the room getting warmer. He didn’t notice Whisper now staring at him with full intensity from across the board game, without the slightest sound.

She didn’t tell Tangle about the real root of her problems. 

Nightmares. One too many sleepless nights. Ever since she allowed her to recruit… him.

Whisper had been observing the feline. Every single day since he had joined the resurgent team. At least, for each time she suffered yet another haunting nightmare. In a way they were comforting; they kept her on edge. Much needed when you’re convinced an active threat now resides in your abode. 

It seemed he had chosen a new skin for himself. Thinking he could fool everyone with his unassuming appearance, adding even a scarf to play the part. In a way, she was disappointed in Tangle for not being able to recognise him right away, despite numerous experiences with the villain. Rebuilding the Diamond Cutters had already been a mistake, and now she had its front doors wide open for him. 

Still, she felt the blame could not be entirely laid on her, when he had been terrifyingly convincing throughout her close surveillance. Would Tangle even believe her still if she spoke up?

No slip ups. No inconsistencies. His documents check out. She had even gone as far to personally verify the many credentials he had listed in his resume. How… can one be this meticulous? Was this what he had been doing all this while during his absence? Sharpening his trademark skills in deception? 

Whisper could feel her fur stand on ends. It was unlike anything she had faced before. She knew this was Mimic. Yet, he was… not. 

This act, this pathetic play… This wasn’t the Mimic she knew. It was beyond theatrical. But she just knew… it was him. 

What… what exactly was he up to? 

Nothing. He has done nothing yet. 

Yet. 

And she had to stop him before…

Her Variable Wispon was just a few steps away. On the table. Loaded and ready. He’s right across from her. Tangle and Lanolin safe, away in the kitchen. It was time. No more room for doubts. She just had to get up, and—

“Whisper?”

He was talking to her.

“You… alright? Are you okay?”

He was talking to her.

“Do you need help?”

Whisper felt her nerves snap. He… he’s actually talking to her. Like nothing. What? How should she even respond? How did he expect her to??

Just… just finish it. End it. It’s better for the both of them. For everyone’s sake. For Tangle’s sake.

She tried getting up, but her legs failed her. She couldn’t lift her head; something was seizing her down. She tried looking around her and found nothing but doubles, or even triples of everything. What was this? Her breathing was heavy. Her limbs giving way. She was losing consciousness. No . Not like this. Do NOT let him win.

He had taken away enough already.

With a herculean effort, she turned back to the villain’s direction. He was still seated there. With that disgusting smug look of his. What’s this? He’s looking startled now? How sickening. What’s he getting away from her for? Over-the-top performance as usual. Even in the face of his victim’s lowest point, he mocks them till the very end without a shred of decency.

She felt herself cough. Something… red. Blood? No time for that.

She would not go down without a fight. Especially when her sense of security had been shattered beyond recognition. 

Her close kins’ murderer. Right in her sanctuary. Gleefully gloating the one hint of mercy she had shown him prior. ‘You should have killed me when you had the chance.’ She should have. How… how could a person be this… cruel? Despicable? Evil? She once trusted him. She once treated him like a father. The father she never had. 

Why… why did it have to come like this? Why could she not live in peace? Has she not gone through enough? Was this retribution for her being no better than that monster during her family’s time of need? Why should she be the only one to suffer from the curse, from the guilt? Was it because she was too pure and he wasn’t? Why should he be the one threatening her, torturing her?

Why should he be the one to decide his own happy ending for everyone? 

For once, she should be the one to end things. 

An intruder. In her new home. The home she had spent many painful months rebuilding. Now invaded by the same intruder that destroyed her previous. Contemplating adding more wounds to her crippling soul, if not worsen them. She would not let him take it away from her again. Ever. Not like this. 

He dared to show himself once more; clearly it was a sign.

He’s getting away. Trailing off. 

Down… the corridor?

T A N G L E

Grab

the table leg

the Wispon

hurry before

Loaded

he’s right There

steady

take aim

 

Fire at will.


III - Only Thing to Fear is Fear Itself

 

hurts

everything

It hurts

“Whisper.”

Help

“Can you hear me?”

who’s that

Mimic?

Whisper’s eyelids seared with pain as she opened them before closing them shut, immediately regretting her decision. She struggled in response to the aching, only to be met with more agony. 

“Don’t move.” A firm hand rested on her, gentle as to not worsen her suffering. “You’re hurt.”

She found herself in a lying position. Trying to stand up would be a mistake, for she felt increasingly disorientated with her sight temporarily robbed. Yet, she could recognise her guardian who was currently overseeing her wellbeing. 

“...Mimic?” Whisper croaked. Her throat tasted ash; probably from her lungs. Tears began streaming down from her cheeks, forming clean pathways amongst the soot that had rested there. She could not smell them, nor could she hear her own sobbing, for the heavy thunderstorm nullified both. But what she could still feel was her entire body’s pain receptors being activated all at once.

“You’re lucky to be alive.” Mimic adjusted the wolf’s position on his lap as lightly as possible, for her better comfort. His voice was hoarse; he was coughing and wheezing, with great restraint. “Well, at least I thought you weren’t alive, till now.”

“Everything h-hurts…” Whisper whined in response, more tears pouring out. She grabbed and squeezed Mimic’s dirtied cloak in desperation.

“I know.” He sighed. “Don’t know how you made it out, kid. But you did.” 

“M-make it stop…”

“I’m trying.” 

Mimic reached over her and she heard him briefly rummaging through something. Whisper was losing her fight with the immense torment she was forced to face, but the smell of antiseptic hitting her brought her mind back. What was about to happen was a thousand times worse. 

“Hold still. And hold it in.”

Whisper knew she could scream loud enough for the skies above to hear her, but her bruised throat denied her of such relief. She resorted to releasing her pain internally as she mouthed her silent screams. The antiseptic was unforgiving to the numerous burns that covered her body extensively. But she knew Mimic had no choice. 

“You’re doing just fine, Whisper.” Mimic’s reassurance sounded more of a command, as he controlled his seizing coughs. Soon the worst was over. “Damn, I knew this dinky bottle wasn’t enough. I’ll apply more when we get back to base.”

As Whisper forced through the pain to reopen her eyes, she found a dark green canopy draped over them in a makeshift manner. Rain droplets dripped furiously from the edges as the storm raged on. The concrete slab they rested on was cold to the touch. She began to shiver, but knew she could not afford such luxuries with her present extensive wounds. 

She could see Mimic covered in soot and tears himself, meticulously conserving his pathetically small bandage rolls. Muttering angrily to himself as the bandages confounded him once more.

Whisper quickly placed a strong grip onto her medic. “D-don’t bother, Mimic. I think I can walk.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Mimic snapped. “You aren’t going to seriously suggest walking off third degree burns. Lay back.”

Whisper groaned all the way back down as Mimic ripped off divided sections of the bandages with his teeth. Within moments the most serious of her injuries were dealt with; the more minor ones sacrificed for a delayed treatment. Mimic began packing up his equipment as Whisper observed the neat bandages that now wrapped her hand.

“...where’s Smithy? And the rest?...” 

“We got separated. I told them to go ahead first as I ran back to get you.” Mimic heaved his now lighter satchel, which he didn’t mind resting on top of a recuperating Whisper. 

“So they’re safe…?”

“Good Chaos , Whisper, how am I supposed to know that??” Mimic nearly yelled at her before recomposing himself. He grabbed his forehead frustrated, perhaps out of regret. “I… I don’t know everything, alright? We split up. Everyone just ran their separate ways. That’s it.”

The following silence was drowned by the rain that persisted, from beyond the makeshift canopy they resided under in an alleyway. 

“...sorry.” Whisper finally admitted, in a hushed voice.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Mimic laid back against the cold brick wall to rest. “You erm… were really brave.”

“Huh?”

“Taking on all those Badniks by yourself when you got ambushed back there. You were supposed to look out on us, but no one looked out for you. That’s on us.” Mimic dusted off a speck of soot off his shoulders and looked down. “We should be the one apologising.”

“No, no…” Whisper tried to get up, insisting against Mimic’s protests. “I was supposed to look after myself. I let you guys down.”

“It’s okay to say it when you’re scared, y’know. We get it. You’ve gone through hell back there. Alone. Hard to imagine if it were me.” Mimic looked up to the sky; the clouds had not cleared. 

“And you still got out alive. That’s why you’re brave.”

“That’s because you came back to save me.”

“Well, Claire would skin me alive if I didn't. Slinger was practically begging me to, with that desperate look of his.” 

“Still, that… wasn’t brave of me.”

“Chaos, you still haven’t gotten the message? I just said all of us were literally hesitating to save you back then, taking our own sweet time with our panic attacks. We’re all cowards. I just happened to lose my patience first.” Mimic tsked. “You survived that long all on your own. I mean, you could have just given up, no? But you didn’t. That’s brave. End of story.”

Whisper looked down on her bandaged arms. She could still remember the flames and explosions that nearly engulfed her as the Badniks emptied their arsenal of missiles. Her negligence allowed it to happen. Bravado. Overconfidence. Vainglory in her supposed invulnerability. Thinking she was above all, hiding in the shadows. Now the shadows have betrayed her fantasies and bit her, hard. 

…and it was going to happen again, in the future. Whether she liked it or not.

She began to tremble, but knew she couldn’t. At least, not in front of Mimic.

“Paranoia getting the best of you, kid?” Mimic commented snarkily, yet without ill intent. “I don’t blame you, if you eventually get allergic to your assigned role.”

“Just that, I’m… j-just not as brave as you think.”

She wasn’t as safe as she thought anymore.

“Why do you keep insisting on this, for Chaos’ sake? Why the sudden obsession with bravery?” 

Whisper took a good look at the scattered burns deceptively hidden under Mimic’s cloak through its burn holes. “I just felt… I wasn’t brave enough.”

No more.

“So what?”

Not because of her.

“I-I need to make sure this doesn’t… repeat again. But–”

“Whisper…” Mimic sighed as he shook his head. “It’s natural to feel fear. You think you’re the first out of all first? You think we don’t have fear?”

“...you guys don’t look like you do. You all look like true naturals.”

“Yeah. Naturals in hiding the fact that we’re sissies. Missed the part I said Slinger was crying like a baby at the thought of you being left behind? You weren’t there to see it.”

“Well…”

“You’ll just need to learn how to channel that fear. How does it go again… ‘the only thing you need to fear is fear itself’? Yeah. Overly pretentious, but you get my point.” Mimic paused to rub his shoulders as he shivered. 

“Brr. Damned rain — always hated the cold. Should get myself a scarf or something. Anyway, you wanna prevent this from happening again? Stop moaning about it and accept it. Remove that fear. No point going on and on about your fears of having fears. Sounds ridiculous if you ask me.”

“I-I…”

“Look, do you still want to be in the Diamond Cutters, kid?”

“O-of course I do!”

“So why do you sound like you never knew of the dangers the job entailed before you signed up? Missed the fine print in the contract?”

“A-all this happened because of me.” Whisper gripped her arms tightly, no longer feeling the stinging from her wounds. “And it’s going to happen again.”

“Good Chaos, Whisper. No one died .” Mimic slumped defeated and sighed. “Well, if someone did, it was going to be you . So–”

“What about you ?” Whisper looked directly at Mimic. She appeared to be in tears once more. 

“What about Smithy… or Claire, or Slinger? If I m-messed up even more… If I got trapped in by more Badniks… If I-I…”

Mimic didn’t say anything. 

“I-I…”

He waited quietly for Whisper to continue, but she became overwhelmed with her own feelings. 

Mimic just put a comforting hand on her back and rubbed it in a light circular motion. “It’s… okay to be afraid, alright? Fear is natural. But you gotta learn how to handle it. It isn’t the end of the world — certainly not for the Diamond Cutters too. When has a little fear threatened the entire team?”

Whisper continued to choke on her tears, forced out like from a broken faucet. 

“Nothing wrong with being scared. Being scared forever though… nothing we can do to right that wrong.”

Whisper instantly planted her face onto Mimic's shoulder and began sobbing with all her might. Mimic’s face instantly twisted with horror and repulsion. “You’re definitely getting my cloak washed after this.” Yet Whisper’s muffled sobs persisted.

Soon the sombre feelings washed over, and the storm had cleared. As sunshine penetrated through slits of the canopy, Mimic gently woke up a napping Whisper, too exhausted from her emotional episode. “Rain’s cleared. You can cry on the way back.”

Whisper furrowed her eyebrows in response and pouted. “...I’m done already, Mimic. You didn’t have to tease me like that.”

Mimic broke into an assuring smile and gave her a pat. “I officially discharge you from the emergency ward. Let’s get you some more bandages in the outpatient. With how long you cried your tears probably ruined the current ones already.”

As Whisper hopped off the slab of concrete they were on, she was hit with a strong wave of vertigo. Unable to even stand up straight, she nearly collapsed before she held onto the brick wall beside her.

“Whisper?” Mimic’s voice was faint and muffled. Gravity seemed to have magnified for her since she stood up. She had to fight it. If she hits the ground, her bandages… 

She… can’t… fall…

“You… alright? Are you okay?” Soon she felt her weight being supported by Mimic, who rushed over to help her up. “Do you need help?”

Whisper finally released her hold and allowed herself to collapse onto Mimic. 

At least she was in safe hands now.


IV - No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear

 

Your heart raced, but it didn't take much for it to eventually calm down. After all, Tangle was there to provide comfort. You saw the look of worry and shock set in her eyes earlier upon hearing your alarmed cry for help. You were barred from returning to the scene as the girls rushed to help, but judging from frantic screams that followed it was far from pleasant. 

Yet, Tangle was more than calm when she came over to check on you afterwards. You were letting your eyes wander in your room, tense from what had just occurred as she knocked on your door. She tried to maintain her usual cheerful demeanour as she jokingly informed you that the game had to be cancelled, but she undeniably appeared more solemn.

You told her you were unharmed, but otherwise shaken. She was sympathetic, and deeply apologetic that someone as young as you had to face such a traumatic experience. You urged that you were fine nevertheless, and it seemed to have lightened her mood. 

You bite your lip, but at last you build up the courage to inquire of Whisper's condition. You ask Tangle what exactly happened to her. You make note to not inform her of the blood you saw Whisper lie unconscious in, lest you shatter her hard-earned composure further. She understandably was taken aback with your inappropriate curiosity, but entertained the question nonetheless. 

You sit quietly as you diligently listen to Tangle find the best words to lessen the gravity of the adversities Whisper faced. Whisper seemed to have a troubled past. She had lost her family to an evil heartless monster, and Tangle suspected her nightmares lately had come back to haunt her. She regretted Whisper's decision of choosing not to confide in her about her troubles, yet remained understanding. 

You quickly asked Tangle what you could do to help. She frantically reassured you that it wouldn't be necessary, and that she and Lanolin will take turns to take care of her well-being instead. You still felt dissatisfied and insisted on at least paying Whisper a visit. At last Tangle relented, perhaps appreciating how much you care for her. 

The room Whisper was recuperating in was cold and dark. You could not see her, only able to locate her based on the rhythmic sounds of faint wheezing. You found a chair to sit on, with light sourced from the crack of a nearby window, as Tangle announced she would bring Whisper water that she would need. You sensed a tone of sadness in her words as she walked away, yet she refused to cry. 

You could hear low moans and quiet cries for help as Whisper shifted uneasily in her bed. It must have been another of her nightmares again. Poor thing. You reached out and located her trembling hand, to which you held tightly. In an instant her posture loosened up, and her breathing became less constricted. The warmth from your mittens seemed to provide great comfort to her ice cold hands. 

“...Tangle?” You hear her finally speak. It was immensely weaker than earlier, utterly devoid of strength. Yet, it was hopeful. You felt the need to inform her of your identity, not intending to deceive and betray her hope. 

It appeared to be the wrong thing to do, as Whisper immediately froze up again, and snatched her hand away from yours. You could feel the bed shaking as she got away from you, moving desperately inch by inch in her exhausted but panic-stricken state. 

She was sobbing. You could sense she was trembling even harder now. She pleaded for you to just leave her alone. To get out.

You were astounded, but obligated to obey her wishes. There was nothing more you could do. You sighed. Maybe Tangle was right. Maybe you shouldn't have come. 

You gently got up from the chair to avoid aggravating her fragile state further. You place your scarf you had brought along on her bed for her use. As you headed for the door, you took one last look at her. She had shrivelled up into a foetal position in a corner, completely vulnerable. She covered her head with her pillow as her sobbing had yet to stop. 

You break into a grin. 

“Rest well, Whisper. Nothing wrong with being scared.” You heard yourself whisper to her as you turned the knob. 

“Being scared forever though… nothing we can do to right that wrong.”

Notes:

Mhm.

I'll be frank with you guys; when I first wrote this fic I didn't intend to give Whisper 28 stab wounds. But I did. Welp.

I wrote this fic on the basis of the new recruit in the revived Diamond Cutters propaganda posters of the cute catboy that is definitely not Mimic. Ironically enough I had been dreaming of writing a hurt no comfort fic for the past few months to explore something new in my fics, and this fic was written without this in mind. Perhaps the Gods willed it.

Anyhow, hope you guys enjoyed this horrific fic nonetheless!

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