Can You See Me

Chapter 1 || First Impressions

It was a miserable fucking day. A day where the small spats of rain seemed to pierce the skin as they landed. A day when the rain wasn't pouring but still managed to seep through jackets and make bodies wetter and stickier. A day where the sweet summer blue faded to a crisp autumn grey, the type of grey that sank its teeth into everything it could reach. Faces were grey, buildings were grey, and when the sun managed to creep from the cracks of the thick muck of clouds, the rays were grey too.

For River, like most of London's busy-bodies, this was an average mid-week morning. But, despite his mundanity, it didn't make the journey to Slough House any less tortuous. River often kept his body within the confines of a small self made bubble he had decided to contain himself in. He didn't much like taking more space than he had to, which meant door frames were never swallowed and rabbles were easily sifted through. So, it was unsurprising that he walked through the half empty streets as if wading through crowds. This particular idiosyncrasy proved helpful in his line of work as his shrinkage meant he was often left unnoticed, however his professionalism seemed fleeting as he fixed his eyes to the ground, watching his feet cross the cracks between paving stones and kick up the odd gravel or trodden leaflet.

See, River wasn't stupid. He knew that his eyes should be more properly trained on the people waiting at the bus stop or the group of men having a smoke outside the local Spoons. And when his nagging got the better of him, indeed his head would lift to his left and right periodically to make a note of his surroundings. But his head would always proceed to resume its position hanging to face the cobble underfoot, and his shoulders return to a hunch.

He would normally be more watchful. After all he was a good spy, though he doubted it. And fairly so, given his standing at The House...

Slough fucking House.

The truth is he didn't need to face the street to know what he would see. The same stained buildings, the same red Toyota that revved its engine obnoxiously loud at the traffic lights, the same man who mooned the street as he lit a cigarette and fiddled with the lint in the bottom of his hanging trouser pocket. He knew it all. Nothing was new. Nothing was special. And that wouldn't change for as long as he went to Slough House.

Just as he finally reached the towering, flaking gates that guarded his building, something more abrupt made his head snap up from its transfixion. The gate rattled when his body clattered to the railings, practically thrown up against it with how hard he was pushed. His fingers launched to quell the dull ache on the side of his face that thwacked straight into one of the metal poles.

Yeah this is fucking brilliant...

He turned to see the empty street behind him. Fucking prick. Instead of being an accidental collision, the culprit was now someone who hadn't bothered to use the rest of the empty path and instead walked directly into his shoulder. He looked forward to where the person continues walking. He was too late to catch their face and clapped his arms to his side in exaggerated exasperation, slightly hoping that the echoing flap would make them turn their head back to the person they slammed into the wall. His efforts were to no avail. Perhaps the smog soaked up too much of the sound for them to hear, or perhaps they didn't care enough to turn back. River's pessimism led him to believe the latter.

"Can you not fucking see?!"

River would've liked to think that if this particular event happened on another morning, he wouldn't have been so aggravated and shouted profanities at a random stranger. Maybe this mornings narrative of a split tea bag and a sopping coat from the day before and a defrosted, leaking freezer had just ticked him off enough to be cynical. But deep down he knew that his patience had worn thin the past few months. He would've reacted the same even with a perfectly intact tea bag and a dry coat and a frozen freezer.