Radicle (Terminal trilogy #2, can stand alone)

Respite

 I killed Alexander Scott a couple more times for good measure, but eventually accepted his offer of clothes. His prostitutes- though as I watched them, I realized they were likely just ex-prostitutes- had all been waiting in one of the side rooms. It struck me that they clearly had been ordered there by him, and that his apparent immortality might be a secret. If so, why was he forcing its existence on me?

I washed my face and ran my hands through my hair, as I usually did when I was nervous. It was still short, and I was so irately uncomfortable that I felt ready to burst.

He waved snidely as I got into the elevator and set out for the lobby. I had little doubt he had taken care of everything, probably for his own amusement- TC would be waiting for me, and the police would have been sent far away.

I stopped to retrieve the children. They were sort of messy and miserable now. I hated children, I decided, even if the idea behind them was noble enough. They had gone to sleep, but immediately started making noise when I picked them up. They still had blood on them, too, from leaning against me for so long.

Oh well. Who was going to notice?

TC was right around the corner when I stepped out of the elevator, and she approached with a bottled up feeling that suggested both relief and rage.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked, taking in my new clothes and bloody children. "This is terrible. You're endangering everything and everyone around you. Hell, I'm probably going to get shot before I make it home."

"I know." I said. I had no difficulty admitting the problematic nature of my last few actions. But the end always justified the means. At least, that is, if it was a good end. "But you know, it hasn't exactly been a fucking cake for me."

She sort of smiled at that, and I suspected I had messed up my metaphors again. "You better hurry. I absolutely hate everything about this, I'd like to note, but I guess I'm stuck supporting your actions either ways. Even if they do involve endangering infants. Speaking of..." She gestured for me to hand her a child, and I gave her the older.

"God, they are heavy. What are their names? And uh, whose are they? Why do you have kids with you again?"

"They're Moll's, they're disgusting halfbreeds, and Michael wants both of them. Their names are Wynona and Beta."

"Terrible names." She muttered. She seemed to have some very basic knowledge of child care, luckily, and was examining Wynona with careful eyes while she walked.

"They're numbers." I explained. We were off walking vaguely in the direction of the elevator out of here, I guessed.

"No, they're not." Again, I suspected she wasn't really listening to me. "These kids are in for a life of trauma, I'd suspect. Okay, maybe not the baby. But this one- Wynona?- may be effected by... whatever provided this blood."

"Most of that is mine." I said. "But I have killed about seven demons today. And Marie Newman, the Gemini. That wasn't my fault though. Real shame. She was shaping up to be a potential ally, what with her knowledge of medicine and the like."

"You killed one of The Few? Jesus Christ." TC sighed. "I really don't know what I'm supposed to do about you. Give up? I'm starting to think I ought to."

"Please do."

"I'm still pissed off though."

"I am much more angry. Did you know Alexander Scott, your leader, cannot die? I am currently very upset about this very fact."

"Bullshit." She yawned. It was sort of frightening, actually, how little she seemed to care about these events.

"I have killed him five times today. These clothes are his, actually." I gestured to the outfit I was wearing. It was probably expensive- the cloth felt quite fine, though it was too tight for my personal preference.