Defector

I didn't care much for the morning shift at the diner. Waking up early was what I dreaded the most. The only benefit was I'd be done by two o'clock and would have the rest of the day to do whatever the hell I wanted to. Sure, arriving at work at five in the morning was unbearable, but I managed to do it.

Bobby originally hired me to cover any shift he needed servers for which generally was afternoon to close until he switched me to mornings. I previously covered a morning shift once or twice and didn't have much interaction with the openers.

There had been two main opening servers for years and I found out quickly that they were not accustomed to a third person. The middle aged, brunette named Kathy was the one who had a mouth and spoke rather loudly about how it made her feel like Bobby didn't think she could do her job adequately anymore. Whereas it was really her salt and pepper haired, tiny, frail coworker, Polly, who requested another server for mornings since she was struggling due to the arthritis in her hands.

Was I welcomed with open arms? No, but my help was appreciated.

Bobby informed me to assist Polly with whatever she needed. I often would ask her if she would like me to help her or do anything for her. At first, she refused, but after awhile she realized my intentions were good and allowed me to help her.

Kathy, being the grouch of the group, complained about how she felt she was not getting any help or support from her coworkers and filed too many complaints to Bobby where he all together didn't give a shit anymore about it. I would catch the mumbles under her breath about how slow Polly was and how she thought Polly should've stayed retired.

Truth was Polly was lonely after her husband died and serving at Bobby's made her feel needed and gave her a place to be. Where on the other hand, jealous Kathy could no longer have kids and her husband stopped touching her so she had to find her thrills elsewhere which was trying to get Polly fired. But she knew Bobby would never fire Polly. Everyone loved Polly. She was a sweet woman and treated everyone like family. Customers adored her and were drawn to her granny love.

As Kathy's need for attention grew stronger, my patience with her dwindled. I recall Polly having a rough morning. Her orders were wrong, she was dropping things, nothing went right for her. Bobby pulled her aside and eventually sent her home leaving me alone with Kathy and all of Polly's tables. I was rushing around and moving as fast as I could, but it still wasn't fast enough. I needed help which I would never get from Kathy. So I made her.

I ran up to the window and shoved plates in her hands. She scowled at me and made a comment under her breath. I rolled my eyes and whipped around asking her to repeat herself. Instead, she asked me where the plates went. The way she looked at me, the tone in her voice, the annoyance on her face pushed me over the edge. I put a hand on my hip and took a deep breath. I couldn't restrain it anymore.

"They can go up your nasty ass where you keep that big, fuckin', stick." I snatched the plates from her, growling passed her.

Bobby wasn't pleased with how the interaction went down, but didn't reprimand me for it which in turn was the final straw for Kathy. She quit a few weeks later which honestly no one was broken up about. I was moved permanently to mornings with Polly which worked for both of us up until I unexpectedly left. Even then, waking up early was never easy.

Imagine my disgust when my phone starts ringing far too early for me to be awake. I peel my face off of Fierce's desk which I inevitably fell asleep on while finishing some work for him. They demanded Drax to take a few weeks off while everyone adjusts to me being around. Most people avoid me, but continuously stare. I'm in no way accepted as I must be supervised at all times and I'm not allowed to leave the premises without Quela, Fierce, or Hunter as my escort. I've been compliant and haven't given them any problems which is far from the normal for me.

I nab my phone and answer without looking at the screen. I mumble somewhat of a greeting into the receiver.

"Red?" The voice is quiet and gruff.

"Depends. Who's asking?" I manage to say.

"It's Ryan." I force my eyes to open and focus. "Any chance you could come back? Something's happened." I run my fingers through my hair.

"What happened?"

"I'd rather not tell you over the phone." He sounds off. "Just stop by for the day. Please." I bite my lip.

"Sure, yeah. I'll be there." He hangs up.

I give a hard stare at the scream finally seeing the time.

5:08am.

About the time I would be arriving at work. Something must've happened at the diner.

I fling myself out of the office chair and out of the room. Quela is seated on the floor resting against the door frame completely passed out. I sneak past her nabbing the keys to one of the vans off the hook. I push open the back door as quietly as possible where I'm greeted by the frosty morning air. I hustle my way across the street and practically throw myself into the van and drive off.

I'll hopefully be back in time before anyone notices I'm missing.

The drive isn't as long as I remember it being. I can't help but question myself as I park the car a block away from the diner. Why was I so quick to come here? Was it because I missed it? I missed the fake life I created for myself. The small family I made in that diner. The smiles of acceptance I received from the locals. Everyone knows everyone here, and they don't take kindly to strangers, yet they welcomed me.

Police surround the diner with their lights flashing nearly blinding me. I walk with a purpose toward the building huffing out my hot breath which is noticeable in the air. Ryan is stationed next to the door which has yellow caution tape across it as he talks to an officer. I get as close to him as possible before an officer is shoving me backward. Ryan notices me and rushes over throwing himself into my arms. I hold onto him tightly as I feel him shaking in my arms.

"Bobby's dead." He whispers into my shoulder. I pull him away from me to look in his eyes.

"What?" My heart falls into my stomach as he repeats his sentence a little louder. "How?"

"There's blood all over the diner." He scrunches his eyes shut as he shakes his head. "Someone killed him, Red."

"Who would do this? Everyone loved Bobby."

"That's why I called you here." He pauses looking away from me. "I think he was killed by someone from out of town." I give him a questionable look. "There was this couple in the diner yesterday," he hesitates, "looking for you." My stomach turns. "Bobby knew they were asking about you, but he told them he didn't know you. I think they killed him over it."

"What did they look like?" I can feel vomit rising in my throat.

"They both had blonde hair. The guy walked with a cane and the woman had these red glasses." I force the bile to stay in my body, but my knees feel weak. "You know them, don't you?"

"They found me here." I mumble to myself. "I can't be here, Ry. I can't come back here again. I was here too long to begin with. If they come back, avoid them. Don't talk to them. Stay away from them and from me. Do not call me again. Do you understand?" He shakes his head. "They killed Bobby to send a message. I don't want you to be another."

He continues to shake his head as he gives me a longer hug than before. He squeezes me tighter knowing I'm right and he'll probably never see me again. I whisper my appreciation and love to him holding him close to me. He taught me how to trust and let people in again. I owe him so much and for that, I have to stay away. I should've left sooner. Six months was almost permanent. Who knows who else could die because I was here that long.

I leave rather quickly after our goodbye. Those two could still be in the area and I'd rather not meet up with them alone.

***********

I slip in the back door hoping I go unnoticed. I'm aware they must know by now that I broke their rules. I'm not sure what kind of trouble I'll be in, but I'm sure if Drax is back and has any say in this matter, it won't be good.

The noise of the door echoing into the hallway alerts Quela first. Her head pops out of her room immediately. She makes eye contact with me debating whether to be an alarm or to let me pass. Her mouth opens, but she falls short of words. Instead, I hear them from behind me.

"Where the hell have you been?" My eyes slowly close before turning around so I'm face to face with Hunter.

"Out." I shrug. "I came back, didn't I? Isn't that what you guys require of me? To come back?"

"No," he crosses his arms, "we require you to be supervised at all times because we don't know if we can trust you. You're an outsider, Detope. You were gone for two years. We don't know what you've done in that time frame. We don't know if you're working for anyone. Do you see the dilemma?" I bite my tongue. "So where were you?" I look away from Hunter, refusing to answer. He sighs turning to Quela. "Take her to the isolation room. Maybe she'll feel like talking after."

Quela wants to fight him, but listens to his order. She lightly grabs my arm trying not to make a scene and out of kindness, I don't fight her. She escorts me into the tiny room leaving me in the center and then walking out slowly. She closes the door behind her releasing a sigh.

I plop down in the seat I already spent twenty-four hours in before and who knows how long I'll be in here this time. They don't trust me. I'm not so sure I trust them, either. The cycle is vicious and never-ending. If only they knew what trouble follows me, they wouldn't want to keep me locked in here. They would want me gone. Gabe was right to kick me out.

Being left in a silent room by yourself with only your thoughts to keep you company can take a toll on a person. It isn't long before I feel panic wash over me and I beg at the door for someone to let me out. Pacing somehow helps me as I find myself involuntarily doing it. I'm not entirely sure how much time has passed before the door opens unexpectedly and Quela walks in.

She pulls me back to the table and chairs and motions for me to have a seat. She has a rest in the chair across from me looking worn out and upset. I cock my head to the side unsure of what's about to happen. She reaches across the table and latches my left wrist to the table. I jiggle it within the latch and feel prongs within it. She doesn't make eye contact with me after that. She looks toward the door and I catch a glimpse of an ear piece fixed in her ear. She sighs and swallows hard.

"Where were you?" She asks so quietly I barely hear her.

"They sent you in here to interrogate me?" I lean back in my seat. If that's the case, this isn't the way to ask me for information.

"Please." She begs finally looking at me. "Just tell me where you went. You can trust me." I narrow my eyes at her.

"Can I? You told Fierce where I was. You have an ear piece in right now, Quela. Can I trust you?" She shuts her eyes and rapidly shakes her head.

I feel a shocking pain erupting around my wrist paralyzing my entire arm for a split second. The pain ceases, but my arm remains tense. I stare at my wrist and then up at Quela feeling hurt in two different ways. She shuts her eyes trying not to cry. I can tell she doesn't want to be in here doing this. Maybe that's why they sent her in here. I'd see how much this is hurting her rather than me and I'd just open my mouth so she wouldn't have to do this anymore. It's brilliant, no doubt either her plan or Hunter's.

"Tell me where you were." She whimpers out.

"Did you volunteer to come in here?" I lean forward. "Is this what you thought would happen? Or did you think because it was you, I would just tell you everything? I mean, it's what I'm used to doing, right?" A longer shock is given to my arm causing me to lurch forward. I take a deep breath once it stops. "You guys are good, but you forget I spent a month with Casandra."

Quela is silent, but makes a puzzling face. She gets up from the table and walks out. I hear some chatter happening outside before the door opens up again and Hunter is shuffling Fierce into the room. He looks at me confused as to what is going on. Hunter shoves him in the seat across from me and latches his wrist next to mine on the table. Fierce looks between the two of us.

"What the fuck is going on?" His yell echoes out into the hall.

"Ask her." Hunter growls storming out of the room, slamming the door. Fierce turns to me with a questionable look.

"Are you wired?" I ask him unsure of what this tactic is.

"No, I just got here. Why would I be wired? What happened?"

"I left The Tunnel without being supervised." I admit. He winces forward, his arm shaking. "They want you to find out where I was."

"By shocking me? I didn't do shit." He pants reaching over to touch his stunned arm. "Listen, you don't have to tell me anything." Fierce pats my hand. "What matters is you came back. I don't care where you were." He's shocked again. I suck my lip in and bite down on it.

"This is a dirty way to ask me where I was." I sigh. "This isn't fair to you." He offers a smile, but it quickly fades as he looks down. "Bobby, the owner of the diner I worked at," I hesitate as it's still fresh in my mind, "was murdered by Casandra last night." Fierce's face appears sympathetic as he holds my free hand. "My roommate called and asked me to come back to see him. He found his body."

"How do you know it was her?" He asks with curiosity in his voice.

"He gave me descriptions of two strangers who came into the diner. One matched her perfectly."

"Two? Who was the other?"

"I don't know." My lying has gotten better over these past two years, but it still can't pass his detection. He narrows his eyes at me, but doesn't question as to why I'm lying.

He releases my hand and fumbles around in his pants pocket. He pulls out a key and unlatches our wrists from the table. I take a deep breath in and look up at him feeling angry and hurt. The door to the room opens, but we remain still.

"I should've known." I sound more upset than angry. He opens his mouth, but no words come out. I shake my head feeling a tear forming in my eye. I get up from the table and walk out of the tiny room.

They were never going to trust me. No matter what I'd do, I would never prove to them I was here because I wanted to be and not for other reasons. In reality, I don't have a problem with them not trusting me. The only opinion that matters to me is Fierce's and it seems as though it's the same as everyone else. I have been living with him for a month, uncomfortably on the the couch, but still living there so I thought we had some sort of trust, but I was wrong.

"It was the only thing I could think of." He admits after chasing me and sitting me down. He thoroughly soothes the burn marks on his wrist from the shocks by rubbing ointment on it.

"I would've told you," I pause, "eventually." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "In a different environment, I would've told you straight up. Not like that. Not stuck to a table being shocked like a misbehaving animal." He reaches for my sore wrist, but I jerk it away. He locks eyes with me where his expression holds sadness, but I don't buy it. "I'll be gone by morning." I wrap my arms around my suddenly chilled body. I get up and head toward the rooms.

"You're staying here?" He asks sounding hurt I'm not going home with him like I have been.

"Doesn't really matter. I'm not trusted at either place." He looks away from me. "Should I wait for someone to escort me to my room so they can stand on guard outside all night?" I sarcastically ask.

"Quela will take the first watch. I'll send her your way momentarily." I scowl at him knowing he's not kidding. I roll my eyes shaking my head as I walk away.

I make myself cozy and safe inside my room with my door closed separating me from all the hatred. I can see the shadow of feet stationed on the other side of the door. I pace aggressively around the room whispering to myself in a reprimanding way.

Why did I come back here? I feel like an idiot for allowing these people, him back into my life. I was better off wondering around, jumping from place to place, being alone. But there's this need inside me. The need for approval. I was accepted into a town which isn't a fan of strangers where I was treated with love and appreciation which is why I stayed for six months. I gave it up to come back to a place where I had friends, where I was once supported and adored as some sort of heroine only to find detestation in its place. So here I am, shunned by people who initially asked me for help. That's the last time I go out of my way to help them.

Lesson learned.