Chapter Text
At first, nothing seems out of the ordinary. Darling goes through his routine of checking on the overnight experiments - he peers at the samples left on the lab’s counter and puts one of them under the microscope. No changes. Bummer. Then he takes out his notebook to see what else he needs to do today.
Noting things down used to be Emily’s thing back when she was his assistant, but in The Dark Place, he took to writing everything himself. Partially because he was perpetually alone. It also kept him sane enough until he found Tom. Having someone else to talk to was still above and beyond being stuck with random screams or creatures trying to chase him. He shudders. Just thinking about it makes him feel the crushing helplessness he knows too well. Almost absentmindedly, he touches the silver necklace hidden underneath his shirt. It grounds him and brings his mind back to the present. He concentrates on his notebook.
“ Compare information from before the Hiss and the current state of alerted items residing in the Investigation Sector. ”
Underneath, he wrote down the known list of items he knew were kept there before his journey outside this plane of existence. It is not a long list, and he is sure some of them have been moved to the Panopticon. It will give him time to try to gather information about the play between the Hiss and the Darkness that overtook the sector back then. He’s only heard about it from other’s conversations and it feels like such a waste he wasn’t there to see it himself.
At the bottom of his list, he sees an addition, written in clunky cursive, like someone was trying to scratch their words into the paper.
- Come home before 10
And there are small stag antlers drawn next to it. Darling smiles and gently brushes his finger against the words. Tom must have checked his notebook back home.
It feels nice to have some to come back to. Before, he sometimes stayed with Raya, but with their on-and-off thing, they never actually lived together. It wasn’t bad. No, back then, it was everything he hoped for. But much has changed. He has changed. Now there are things and people he considers as important as his work. People he is willing to accommodate. For example, Tom prefers night hours, which is understandable. He is an artist. Or maybe it is caused by how much of him is still the Darkness from underneath the Cauldron Lake. Darling has yet to convince him to let him run any tests, so there is no conclusive answer.
Still he is happy that they are carrying out small experiments. They have established that Tom can accompany him in the brightly lit rooms as long as he gets a break occasionally. Makes traversing the Oldest House easier. In exchange, they keep their flat mostly dark. Compromises. Darling knows that’s how relationships are built.
He throws one last glance at the working station. He’s hoped that getting Tom’s eyes on the Black Rock will give him some kind of revelation. Unfortunately, the only thing the artist could tell him was that it was indeed a rock. And that it made him feel funny. He proposed consuming it to check how it worked, which Darling is around 50% sure was a joke. And that’s only because he remembers telling Tom about the properties of the Black Rock and knows the other well enough to know he won't risk actually destroying himself. Even with that knowledge, he couldn’t stop frowning, making Tom kiss him. Having someone react so enthusiastically about Darling’s actions still feels like a novelty.
With a smile and a spring in his step, Darling walks down towards the elevators. He waits, tapping his foot to a song that has been stuck in his head for some time. He remembers it from one of Tom’s movies - one that the artist made himself. He whistles to himself the tune. It calms him whenever he hums it or vocalizes it in any other way. When the door to the elevator opens, he is greeted by another employee. They catch his gaze and nod. Then they pointedly stare ahead. He finds their face familiar but cannot place their name. Not unusual. It took him a month to remember Carla’s name back when they started making the video shoots. He nods back at them and gets in.
As the ride takes them to the next floor, he keeps on whistling. It usually helps him when some song just won’t leave him alone. The person next to him fidgets in place. Maybe they know the tune - he considers asking, but that would mean he might have to admit that he doesn’t remember their name. Better to just leave it be - if they want to speak up, he is all for it.
The elevator stops, and his companion leaves. It seems like they work in Security. They don’t look back, their back straight and a hand hovering over the gun they carry. Darling rides the rest of the way alone. He finishes the tune just as he reaches the Investigation sector. It feels good to see it bathed in light. The Oldest House isn’t his home, not anymore. He knows its walls and paths as well as anyone can. But for the first time in a really long while, when he thinks of going to bed, it is not a cot he keeps in one of the labs. Still, it feels good to see it restored to its former glory, unchanged by outside forces.
Even though his home is with one of those external forces. No one could have predicted that outcome, but it doesn’t make it any less accurate. He chuckles. He should use that one if they ever come back to making movies. Tom mentioned that he would like him to play in one of his. Maybe there it will be useful. Director Faden has yet to get back to him about his proposal on new instructional videos.
“Dr. Darling.” He is greeted by a Security officer.
One of the few places that have a checkpoint. After everything that’s happened makes, it seems fair. However, if someone asked Darling, he would say that feels unnecessary after they took away all the active altered items and should have been done back when they were keeping a Dr. Hartman here. But no one asks, so he nods at the guard. Fortunately, this one knows him, unlike the new hires. He lets him in without a fuss and just watches him carefully as he crosses the Firebreak. Most of the guards do that, especially after Tom’s official visit. They don’t tell him to his face what they think but he isn’t stupid.
As the path before him opens, he notices someone coming from the other side. Raya. They would obviously run into each other even after he told her he was in a relationship with someone else. It doesn’t make him any less unsure how to approach her. Should he speak up? Ask her how she’s been. Or would that be an overstepping of their current relationship? He opens and closes his hands. They’ve become sweaty. The rush in his ears is louder than the moving plates underneath his feet. He wishes he could just talk to her about his latest experiment. Not her area of expertise but at least something he knew anything about. His throat feels dry, so he tries to swallow.
The path is clear, and she is coming his way. He also takes a step forward and readies himself to pass her.
“Darling.” She greets him with a nod. It is the same greeting she’s always given him.
“Raya.” He answers with a smile.
She doesn’t exactly smile back, but her face relaxes a little. And just like that, she is behind him, on her way to the other parts of the House. Their meeting takes a few seconds, and then he is free. Like always, wondering about it only makes him feel worse but doesn’t help the awkwardness.
If only Tom’s ‘ Just speak with confidence, darling. They will listen to you anyway. ’ would work as efficiently as his partner makes it sound. He can talk with confidence! About what he knows anything about.
Darling wipes his hands on his coat before coming into the office. He’s been here since his return, but seeing people working here again is still a novelty. Everyone is busy with tasks, coming and going just like in any other part of the Oldest House. They all carry guns now, which is also a new thing. The Director has asked him about it, but he declined. A gun wouldn’t have helped him in the Dark Place. He did have to use his fists there, though. All those early morning hours spent at the gym near his flat paid out.
He follows the signs towards the Eagle Limited Awe. Some people greet him along the way, while others avoid eye contact. He makes sure to smile at anyone willing to catch his gaze. It doesn’t take much but should make people less weary of him.
He finds the Alerted World Event site different than how he remembers it. While the train is still hung in the air at the end of the hanger, it no longer looks pristine. No, the mental from which it’s been constructed is charred black. It looks like someone set the train on fire. Apparently, the change happened a year prior. He walks up the metal stairs to the platform, letting him access the insides of the train. It squeaks beneath his feet but holds steady. Before, one couldn’t see what was inside without walking in. Now, he can clearly see the charred black seats as well as the mirages of bodies lying on the floor.
“Dr. Darling.” He hears from behind.
A young man stands there with a clipboard and a pen. He is wearing a white lab coat with FBC insignia. His blond hair is held in a pony behind his head.
“Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met.” Or at least Darling hopes they haven’t. It would feel terrible to once again forget someone he used to work with and have that person notice.
“Yes, I’ve come to work in the FBC after your… disappearance, sir.” The man answers. “My name is Samuel Atkins. I am responsible for this site.”
“Perfect. Then, can you give me the details?”
“Of which part exactly?”
“Everything. The last state I do know about is from 2019. Back then, this train was connected to the events in Bloomington carried out by one of the groups we’ve been monitoring. The events could be heard replaying when you got inside.”
Sam listens carefully before answering.
“Once Director Faden came to the Oldest House, she took care of the persistent auditory event. The train became silent for the next 3 years. I took over it during that time and saw and heard nothing until last year. On March 11th, we could suddenly hear the sound of fire and screams. It was so loud that people back in the office area alerted the security.” The man shudders. “They were lucky since they couldn’t smell it. Those on sight didn’t approach the carriage until Rangers arrived, but we could clearly see it turning black and see and hear people trying to get out. One of the newly hired tried to get closer, probably to help them in case any of them were real. He was stopped.”
Sam looks from Darling to the train. Even though his tone is clinical and cold, his eyes seem far away. There is terror there still. Nothing will wipe away that one evening from his memory, no matter how much time passes.
“Once the Rangers arrived, they confirmed that the train was still safe. Whatever happened changed its appearance and its behavior. Director Faden came by and tried to take care of the visual apparitions just like she did with the auditory ones. For some reason, she wasn’t able to get rid of them. On the plus side, they are contained within the train.”
Darling takes that in. He turns to also look at the train. It is true that he can see the victims only when he looks into the train. This one doesn't seem that bad out of all the traumatizing effects of the alerted items.
“Is there anything else that’s changed?”
“The model of the carriage. We’ve tracked this one to the New York metro, but neither are they missing a train nor did we find any instances of a train burning with people stuck inside in a similar fashion.”
A mystery, then. Good, Darling likes puzzles. He looks back at the young scientist.
“I need all the documentation that’s been gathered about this case.”
“Of course. I have it ready. Should I bring it here?”
Darling nods. He needs all the information he can get before he follows the feeling in his gut. A feeling that tells him that he knows to what world this train is connected to. He can feel its pull deep within himself. Sam scrambles back to the other part of the hangar to bring the necessary documents. Darling pays him no mind. Instead, he tries to quiet down the feeling in his chest, the longing he sometimes feels deep into the night. Usually, lying his head on Tom’s chest suffices in those situations. Instead of a heartbeat, he can hear rolling, low thrum of the Darkness just like he used to back there. A warm hand cradles his head and combs through his hair, and when he closes his eyes, he feels they are back there. And in those moments, it fills him with peace.
But he isn’t there now. And Tom isn’t with him. Instead, he is in a brightly lit room with many FBC employees around him. He must ensure it’s not just his longing clouding his judgment. If it’s not, it means having a part of the Dark Place just lying in the Bureau without anyone noticing! It is surviving even though it is surrendered by light. Some force changed an already established object of power into a different one. If he is right, he is pretty sure he knows who did it. But how? He cannot wait for Mr. Wake to visit New York so he can just talk to the man.
“Here, Dr. Darling,” Sam calls him over from where he stands by a metal table. He has left several files lying across it.
“Yes, thank you.” The young man hovers nearby as Darling looks through the files.
He may be expecting more questions, but once Darling can learn things by himself, he is gone. He takes out his notebook and writes small notes to remind himself to look certain things up later. Once he skims over all of the files, he gets closer to the train.
It doesn’t have any kind of smell. Not any longer. Only the visual aspects linger. Maybe it is a byproduct of the Director already taking care of one of the aspects. Maybe this alerted item would never have any auditory or olfactory aspects. They would never know. Just as Darling reaches with his pen to trace the carriage number, Sam speaks up again.
“Ah, Dr. Darling. I didn’t expect you here so soon. My name is Samuel Atkins, and I am the supervisor of this site.”
As he speaks the world seems to tilt a little and then get back on its axis. A cold shudder runs down Darling’s spine. He slowly turns to Sam. The young man is standing next to the empty table, a clipboard and pen in hand.