Iris West doesn't have a death wish, okay? (tellsyourstory) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2019-09-22 12:41:00 |
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Now that Iris had an actual job posting as opposed to just freelancing, it meant she could better focus on more local stories. Not that she would stop with national and international stories that were assigned, but she did want to get more local as well. Just not so local as to run into Hydra. Even if her information had been erased by Clara during the rescue of her and Cisco, it wasn’t like she was looking for a repeat of that.
Which was why the story she’d been digging into had been something she had done extensive research on to make sure there were no Hydra links before she had let Peter in on it. But once she had verified that it was just a regular real estate racketeering scheme that needed to be exposed and not Hydra? Well, she knew it was time to bring him in.
Besides, it was just going around, getting the stories of those affected, the families broken up, as well as going to the buildings. Nothing to be worried about.
Okay so maybe she’d dealt with a similar story in her Dreams and how that had ended up, but different group, so it was fine. Completely fine. Which was why she and Peter were in an empty building that definitely had some horror movie vibes with things covered up and no signs of life. Nothing to worry about at all.
There had been a time in Peter’s life when he would have appreciated a reporter who went and sniffed out their own stories, trying to right injustices and whatnot. He still did, really, but he was less enthused these days than he had been when he was younger than to go poking around old, dusty, derelict buildings.
“This place isn’t creepy at all,” Peter muttered distastefully, lifting an old sheet that was covering an end table. He thought he caught sight of a spider running and hiding in one of the cracks of the table before a cloud of dust rose up and made him sneeze a couple of times.
Still, the worn old table, tarp half hanging off of it made a pretty good photo, and he crouched down to take a photo of it. “It’s a shame,” Peter muttered. “There’s a ton of people at the shelter who would love to live in a place like this.”
It wasn’t like Peter had to come along. If he’d decided to stay home on his day off, Iris wouldn’t have blamed him even though she definitely would have still gone anyway. It was just the way Iris was. It wasn’t like she hadn’t taken plenty of risks before in her work.
“Quite homey, really.” It was nice having someone there though. She’d bounced some ideas off of Peter already, filled him in on what she already knew. She’d also done some audio notes to go over once she was back at her computer.
As Peter stopped for a picture, Iris looked around then back over her shoulder at the comment about the people at the shelter.
“No kidding. There’s been a decline in shelters recently and then you have organizations like this one buying up the buildings that could be used and pricing out families and adding to the problem, all to turn a profit.”
“Yeah, it’s a real problem. One people should hear about.” One he remembered that his Aunt May had struggled with a lot in her last couple of years at the shelter. Even just thinking about her still hurt, but he tried not to let that show on his face. He moved on from the stand, taking a few more photos of the room. “It’s just too bad that your article’s not actually going to change anything.”
It was definitely one of the stories Iris was focusing more on, at least on the local level. It just made it difficult sometimes (a lot of times) to make any sort of impact with the constant wave of national news and trauma that was a continuous problem with the current administration. Her own story about being held by CBP was just one of many and while people decried it on social media, it didn’t do much good.
A look was sent at Peter’s comment on it not changing anything. Rude.
“Who knows. It mostly depends on people here who read it and if they decide to take action.” After all, an American citizen held within one of the detention centers on the border was released after public outcry, so even in the midst of constant noise and hate, people could rise up. Even if it was just locally. It was an issue everywhere, but even some small help.
Either way, she wasn’t going to decide it was pointless to write the story. It needed to be told.
“Doesn’t matter what actions they take,” Peter said, shrugging. “Money’s what makes the world go ‘round.” Not that he would ever say that telling the story was pointless. They were stories that needed to be told, whether they would spur real change or not. He’d been in the business for too long to think that what they did could actually change things, but he was still in the business because, change or not, it needed to get done.
Iris was about to counter Peter’s point - mostly that get enough people ready to boycott or make companies realize it hurt their bottom lines, go after advertisers - but suddenly there were gunshots from the other side of the room and she instead had to duck quickly to get out of the way.
“Seriously!?”
She already knew this wasn’t Hydra, but did this really have to take the path of her Dreams? And no Barry with superspeed to catch her out of a window, not to mention Peter was there as well. Okay. There was going to be a way out of this. That’s all there was to it.
What the fuck? Iris probably knew what she was doing, but Peter still grabbed her wrist and pulled her through the first open door that he could see. This wasn’t the first time he’d been shot at - he had been a criminal photojournalist in New York City, after all, and in his younger days he hadn’t shied away from potentially dangerous jobs. But it had been a few years since the last time this kind of thing happened. He was too old for this.
“I didn’t know you were expecting company,” Peter said, keeping his voice light as he tried to peer through the door to see where whoever it was that was shooting at them was. He couldn’t see them, but he did know that they were between them and the front door. They’d just have to find their way to the back door in that case. “You should have warned me. I would have dressed up a little.”
Cop’s daughter, Iris definitely could hold her own. But she wasn’t bullet proof and she wasn’t looking to be another statistic. Even if this was just your typical racketeering operation and not evil secret organizations. Which actually meant their chances were better. But she also wasn’t going to argue when Peter grabbed her wrist to pull her through the first door. They needed to stick together. No one was getting left behind.
And if he wanted to do quips? Iris wasn’t going to stop him because one thing she knew was that panicking wouldn’t do any good. So if light hearted quips while keeping an eye out and searching for a way to get to the backdoor was the way to do it? Why not.
“What can I say, I like to keep the mystery alive.”
As Peter looked to peer through the door, Iris kept her attention on the area he wasn’t watching. So far, no one was coming from that direction so that was a plus. Which was why she pulled out her phone where she’d saved a file of the floorplans.
“Can you release my wrist, I need to look something up.” Since trying to scroll through floor plans single handedly in a situation like this? Not that easy.
Peter hadn’t even realized that he was still holding onto Iris’s wrist, and he straightened his fingers to let go of her. At least, he attempted to straighten his fingers to let go of her, but his fingers… well, they didn’t seem to want to move. Not that he couldn’t feel the muscles contracting to do what he wanted to do, just that, for some reason, Iris’ wrist was really sticky.
He attempted a couple of weak shakes, not wanting to jar her arm, to get them loose but… “You know what, I think it’s safer if we stay like this,” Peter said after a moment. He caught sight of the shadow in the other room moving towards them. He wasn’t exactly willing to meet whoever was on the other side of the gun, so even without the floor plans he pulled Iris down the hallway and around the corner.
As Peter attempted to let go, her eyes narrowed some critically. Because there was definitely more going on. Iris even tried to pull away to help but nothing. And add in the comment on them staying safer that way?
“Peter, is there something you’re not--”
Because he was on the Network, had mentioned somewhere about being disappointed in himself in the Dreams and the science or something like that, and she knew people with abilities from the Dreams. But then she was being pulled down the hallway and around a corner to avoid a shadow.
Peter pulled them into a room and quietly closed the door behind them, hoping that that, at least, would buy them a bit of time. Time enough to get them unstuck at least. He released a breath when the door clicked quietly into place behind them, went to released the door handle, and… Did not release the doorhandle.
“Why is this happening to me?” he whispered to himself, his voice perhaps a little bit higher than it normally might have been.
He turned to Iris, and attempted to lean casually on the doorhandle, still holding onto her wrist. “What? Not telling you something?” he asked, and added a bit of a strained laugh. “What wouldn’t I be telling you?”
Did Peter really think she wasn’t going to notice his attempt to also let go of the door handle? Because he clearly didn’t realize how observant she could be then. There was a reason she had gone into investigative journalism.
She had no answer for the whispered question and she was only mostly convinced she knew exactly what he was asking. So instead she looked around to see if there was a way out as well as any found weapons, assuming Peter ever let go of her wrist.
“Oh I don’t know. Something related to your Dreams perhaps? Something that might explain the whole not letting go of my wrist. Or the door handle.”
Peter wasn’t the only one who had dreams, nor was he the only one who, apparently, had the powers from his dreams carry over. That didn’t stop him from having a very strong desire to keep what he was in the dreams a secret. He couldn’t explain why, except for the fact that he kept it a secret in the dreams themselves, but the less people who knew about it, the better.
But try as he might, he couldn’t think of a way to talk himself out of this one. “I’m sticky,” Peter said suddenly. “In the Dreams, I mean.” He glanced at his hand, still around Iris’ wrist. “And here too, I guess.”
Iris had a very big thing about people keeping things from her. She also understood the whole secret identity thing and the safety issues involved. Which was why she wasn’t exactly writing about it - even if it wouldn’t ruin her entire credibility as a journalist.
“I can see that. Well, your secret is safe with me and once we get out of this, we’ll figure out how to get unstuck if it’s still an issue.”
Because that was the main priority right now. Getting out alive. They could worry about Dream things once that was done.
“Than-” Peter started, but under his hand, he could feel the doorknob attempt to turn. He stopped, midword, and tightened his grip around the handle.
It was subtle, barely noticeable - Peter probably wouldn’t have noticed if it he wasn’t already so keyed into everything around him - but he had the hint of danger, and barely managed to swing his body around to the wall beside the door, pulling Iris with him, before bullets tore through the flimsy wooden barrier. Completely distracted from being stuck to Iris, he pulled his hand away and placed it against the door in some poor attempt to hold it closed. Now that he wasn’t thinking about it, his hand came away easily from her wrist.
Well that was interesting, but again, Iris didn’t have too much time to think about it. Because something was happening, so instead it would be filed away for later. So as she was swung against the wall away from the door, she was about to ask what the hell that had been when bullets went through the door.
Okay, that was….yeah.
And Peter was no longer stuck to her wrist. Which meant Iris pulled out her phone and hit her dad’s number.
“Hey, babygirl, what’s-- Are those gun shots!? Where are you?”
Giving a quick answer, Iris noted another door at the far end of the room and motioned for Peter to follow.
Peter followed Iris’s gaze to the door. At least they weren’t trapped in here while some strange gunman waited to peg them off. He started to follow her, only to realize that his hand was still stuck to the door handle.
Crawling on walls in his dreams hadn’t been awful, he could admit, but this… well, this was something else. Why the hell couldn’t things ever be easy for him. He knew he couldn’t stay here, stuck to the door - eventually, the man on the other side would shoot through and Peter would be a sitting duck. Instead, with his free arm, he elbow dropped the door handle, hoping that his body weight would be sufficient. The door handle snapped off, and even though the knob itself was still stuck to his hand, he followed Iris to the door. “Is that the police?” he asked.
Okay this was definitely not helpful but Iris didn’t know how to help Peter with the door handle situation and so just hung back to make sure he was okay. Which….sure, door handle stuck to Peter’s hand. Why not.
“Essentially. Either way, they’ll get here.”
Right now it was getting them somewhere safe, and Iris staying in the lead so Peter’s other hand didn’t get stuck to something, which was why she opened the door and motioned him to follow as she looked for the next place to go.
Peter didn’t especially like the idea of Iris going first, but he could see the wisdom in it. If he got himself stuck to anything else, he was liable to get them both killed. He took some comfort in the fact that whoever was shooting at them was behind them, so that Peter was still the more likely of the two to get shot.
“I think we could make it down from one of these windows if we’re lucky,” Peter said, glancing through one of the windows. They were on one of the upper floors, and while his hands were liable to just get stuck and leave him as a sitting duck, there was also a chance that they could actually help the both of them get down.
Iris had always been the take charge type. So she had no thought one way or the other to be in the lead. It had made sense given the fact that Peter currently had a door handle stuck to his hand and no control on the ability of sticking to things or not sticking. Instead, she was just focused on them getting out.
Looking at the window, Iris bit her lip in though. California didn’t exactly have the fire escapes that would be familiar from New York. But it wasn’t like they really had many options at the moment.
“Are you going to be good with only one hand available?” If they were lucky, they’d be above a dumpster that was open to land on. Still, they were probably better risking jumping than waiting to be shot.
Peter frowned at the doorknob that was still stuck to his hand, giving it a couple of futile shakes. It still didn’t seem to want to come off.
“If I’m half so good at sticking to walls as I am at sticking to literally everything else, I should be okay,” Peter said, not sounding entirely convinced. But he didn’t see any other option than to keep playing cat and mouse games with the psycho with the gun, and even once the managed to get out of the house there was no guarantee he wouldn’t get them as they ran to the car. Not if he knew exactly where they were exiting from.
“Guess we won’t know unless we try,” he said, and before he could lose his nerve, he slid open the window - not sticking it it, thank God, and swung out the window - gripping onto the windowsill as he did so. To his immense relief, his feet actually did stick to the brick exterior, and he tentatively let go of the window. It was just like standing on the ground, except gravity was pushing on him from the wrong direction, which was weird, but not something he didn’t think he couldn’t get used to.
Okay, so Peter had a point with that. True at the moment, there was nothing that seemed to show any sort of control or the sticking ability going his way. But...maybe it would now? It wasn’t like there were that many options left. So it was just going to be jumping and praying.
“Fair enough.”
Especially as it sounded like the gunmen had broken into the room behind the door. So like it or not, they were doing this.
Watching Peter go out the window, she was mildly impressed by the walking on the wall. Well. Standing on the wall. A quick look to the door and so far nothing. Noticing there was some room for her, Iris got onto the window sill and let out a slow breath as she noticed an electrical building within jumping distance.
Again, a best friend with the Speed Force would have been really beneficial right now but oh well. Peter had his...whatever was going on with him and Iris had gumption and definitely no death wishes. Well, never let it be said Iris couldn’t save herself as she made the jump for the lower building, which at least was only one story.
Peter was ready to catch Iris if she jumped - though he wasn’t sure if he was physically capable of doing that. Peter had never been especially athletic, and what small amount of physical ability he might have had had disappeared after MJ had left, but he was still ready to attempt it. But to his relief, Iris made the jump cleanly, and Peter leaned forward (or leaned up?) so he could slide the window closed behind them so as to not draw any extra attention.
He made it just as he heard someone enter into the hallway, and he squatted down so he wouldn’t be immediately visible if someone were to casually glance out the window. He let a breath out when it seemed like the man was going to walk past the window without a second glance, and then jumped straight up so he could hopefully join Iris on the adjacent building. For one horrifying moment, he was suspended in the air, and he was glad that he was looking up into the blue sky instead of the drop below him, and then his hands made contact with the other building and he swung himself up onto the roof without managing to get embarrassingly stuck to the wall.
“I just might be getting the hang of this,” he said, glancing at his hands.
Watching Peter worriedly, Iris let out a breath when she saw him manage to close the door and the man walk by without seeming to notice either of them. Because it would have been ridiculous for them to try and go out the window so why would they think that was a possibility? But it was also why they did so.
And then Peter was jumping and she was ready to help him get up when it seemed he barely missed the roof and was holding on. But he managed to get up and she nodded some.
“Seems that way. Which is a good thing.” Especially right now. It would have been awkward enough had this not turned life and death, but that was the current situation.
“Come on, there’s a ladder on the other side of the building we can use.”
“You go ahead,” Peter said, and instead of looking at Iris, he was looking at the building across from them and trying to figure out which window the man was most likely to walk in front of next. Without thinking about it, he was already getting the camera ready. There was no way this guy should be able to get away with this; at the very least Peter could attempt to get a useable photo they could show the police.
“What, are you--” And that was when Iris noticed where Peter was looking and thus what he was planning. She wanted to say it wasn’t worth it, but they’d gotten this far. “You better not get yourself killed.”
So far they were doing okay but she was still going to worry. Iris also knew though that there wasn’t much she could do. Especially as she could hear police cars closing in.
Shaking her head, the journalist quickly made her way to the ladder, all while keeping an eye out for Peter as well. She’d never forgive herself if something happened to him.
“Hey, I’ve been doing this for a long time,” Peter said, glancing over his shoulder so he could shoot Iris a self-assured smile. Of course, getting shot at wasn’t exactly one of the most common ways his work days ended, but it wasn’t like it had never happened before. Maybe not in the last decade, but it had happened.
The sound of police sirens was definitely a relief, and Peter was almost tempted to just forget the photo and hope the police caught the guy before he ran off, but if Peter could hear the sirens, then it was pretty likely so could whoever it was who’d tried to hunt them down. And then, to his relief, he saw the figure pass in front of the window. He quickly shot the photo, just as the man looked out the window and spotted Peter. He was raising his gun, but Peter was already running to the other end of the building. He grabbed the ledge of the building, hoping whatever it was that was making his hands so sticky would keep it up, and then jumped off.
He let out a sigh of relief when he realized he was unharmed, and that the man was unlikely to try to follow them with the police so close, and then shot Iris a strained smile. “See? Nothing to it,” he said lightly, heart pounding in his ears.
Iris was keeping an eye both on where the police were coming from, as well as up to make sure Peter was going to make it. But there were no sounds of gunshots and she could see him coming down and so she finally let herself breathe.
“Oh yeah, nothing to it.”
“I think I got a useable shot,” Peter said. He hadn’t had a chance to check it, obviously, but he’d been doing this job long enough to know that unless there had been an unfortunate glare on the window or some other freak accident, it had been a clean shot.
He crawled his way along the wall to the ladder, and took hold. Maybe it was superfluous, but he definitely felt safer actually holding onto something. “So, is it always like this going on assignment with you?” he asked.
There were times where it was definitely a good thing where familiarity and expertise in a given field was an asset. Or more so than usual. Like being able to get a good shot without having to check barring things like lighting or anything of that nature. Especially given the nature of what was going on.
Once Peter was down and asked the question, Iris shrugged.
“Not always.” But it wasn’t like Iris could promise this was a one time thing. She had a habit (good or bad depended on who was talking) of finding stories people didn’t want revealed that needed to be.
With the cop cars seeming to pull in and the like, Iris nodded in that direction.
“C’mon, lets go give our statements and you can show them the photo.”