Left with no Escape

Being a Tim Horton's employee sucked. No matter what anyone said, it was one of the worst jobs ever. Eight hour shifts on your feet while idiots tried to order coffee and a doughnut. "I want a coffee," yeah, right. What size, anything in it- ugh, she was so tired of having to repeat herself customer after customer. Drive through was worse, though she'd managed to skip that hell for the day.

At least she worked near a park. It was always nice, looking out on trees and flowers while imagining leaping over the counter and bashing people over the head with a coffee pot.

She needed a new job. One that didn't inspire her to thoughts of murder. And that was just with the customers! Her co-workers, well- she was one of the oldest people at the place, and it showed. She never would've considered some of the stupid hi-jinx when she was sixteen, even! 'Finger condoms' and food coloring wars and the worst customer service she'd ever seen… And the managers could burn in Hell. That'd be nice. She was supposed to be on a two week vacation, but no, she had to be scheduled 1-9 for three days straight.

She really needed a new job.

Kathy zipped up her jacket and headed out into the street. She'd parked her car half a block down from the Tim Horton's, because parking was a bitch and everyone needed their coffee now, damn it, and the drive through line had been halfway down the street and- ugh. She needed a new car, a new apartment, a better jacket- none of which she could afford on the 8.75 they paid her an hour to wear a stupid uniform and let her brain cells die off.

Maybe she should work on that book she was writing, actually write it instead of just talking about it. Get it published- you never knew. Wendy Northcutt had made it big off her first book, and now she lived in a mansion out in the tropics. Why not Kathy Goldring?

She reached her car, unlocked the door, got in- and then shrieked. Her side mirrors were busted! She got back out and stared at the damage- then at the park just across the sidewalk.

"Oh, I don't need this," she muttered, and slammed the car door shut. She locked it, and started walking back to the coffee shop. "I really don't need this."

It took a minute- but when she figured it out, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Her car wasn't the only one with busted side mirrors, not by a long shot. The whole row of parked cars on the park side of the street were the same. A few even had the mirrors twisted off.

"Well." She blinked, and shook her head. "Great. Just great."

She supposed it was a good thing she knew how to talk nice to the police. It seemed she was going to be talking to them, real soon.

Saturday, August 1, 10:16 P.M.

Brenda strode through South end's rather nice park, ignoring flashing red and blue lights with the ease of long practice. Mewtwo seemed to be doing alright himself, though that was probably just the illusion. Just like most rookies, he was probably starting to feel a little sick to his stomach. The shifting play of light and shadows threw most people off. Brenda herself used to have to keep a stash of anti-nausea pills in her first year of Homicide.

"Told you. That fifth slice of pizza was a bad idea." She smirked up at Mewtwo, who glared back.

"Shut up. I'm fine."

"Sure you are."

"You were projecting again, you know."

"Aw, wassa mattah? Headache? Poor baby."

"Can't you talk like an educated person?"

Brenda shook her head. "It's a miracle I can even pronounce education. Public school's just a place to meet drug dealers, I swear."

Mewtwo sighed and rolled his eyes. "Your contempt for the educational system is disheartening."

"'Educational system'?" she quoted. "Jeez, no, it's a fucking factory. If you don't think inside their box, you get shoved into the 'special' class."

"Detective, your… abilities with the sciences are not to be doubted. I'm just amazed you were allowed in a science classroom. Weren't they afraid of impromptu bombs?"

"It wasn't my fault!" she protested. "I don't even know what I did and you still blame me?"

Mewtwo smirked. "Of course."

"Asshole."

"I knew you were going to say that."

Brenda shook her head and decided to quit while she was behind. Mewtwo had recently told her that 'hitting, kicking, and trying to bite me' was against the rules. Since she wasn't allowed to beat him into the ground- she ignored his snort, because it obviously had nothing to do with what she was thinking- she was reduced to fighting with words.

She wasn't as skilled at that as he was.

She led the way over to the crime scene tape, and ducked under. Mewtwo, of course, just stepped over- at least, she thought he did. With the way his legs were built, who knew? Besides, it probably didn't matter, so long as people saw what they were supposed to see.

"So, what's up?" she asked, looking over at the street beat officer. The man grimaced and nodded to a pair of feet poking out from behind a bush.

"Got a call for vandalism in the area. Found a trail, which is how we found her."

"A trail?" Brenda asked, edging a little closer to the bush. "From here to the vandalism?"

"Close enough." The officer ran a hand over his hair, and looked up at Mewtwo. "A very long run of cars had smashed side mirrors. Someone strong or drugged did it. Found some blood on the shards."

"Useful," Mewtwo murmured, and stepped up to the body. Stopped cold. "Oh."

"See, that's why I was going slow," Brenda muttered, and stepped up to join him.

She'd known from the size of the feet that they were either going to be looking at a midget, or a child. She'd been betting child, just from the lack of leg hair, and had been right.

A girl maybe twelve, thirteen, had been laid out on her back, hands clasped over her navel like in a funeral home. She was dressed- or had been dressed- in a white shirt that ended at mid thigh and left her arms bare. Her legs were bare, she didn't have on any shoes. Her hair was like raw, pale silk, spread out around her head, and her eyes were closed.

She looked like a little angel fallen from Heaven. Brenda didn't normally think in terms of Kanto's major religion, because it was just too placid for her, but… This time, it fit. The pale, perfect angel, her life cut way too short.

"Damn it," she muttered, and took a deep breath. "Did anyone call for a dead wagon?"

Saturday, August 1, 10:30 P.M.

Mewtwo glared at an inoffensive tree, and concentrated on deep breaths. There were people that, in his opinion, deserved to die. The vast majority of trainers, members of Team Rocket, and several scientists- but innocent children weren't supposed to die. They weren't supposed to be left in a park.

They weren't supposed to remind him that he was supposed to hate humanity.

Why was he doing this? He was pretending to be a cop, helping humans, working along side them, why?

"Problem?"

Mewtwo looked down at Brenda, and hissed. She ignored it, as she ignored so many things, and offered a cup of coffee. He sneered, she shrugged, and took a long sip from what was now her cup.

They hadn't needed to talk for what should have been an actual discussion!

"You're looking a little rattled," she pointed out, peering at him from over the cup rim.

He glared at her. She smirked.

"Wow, its amazing how your illusion flickers when you get emotional, isn't it?"

"Is there a point to this conversation?" he asked, just managing to keep from snarling. His eyes were probably glowing, however.

"Yeah, actually." Brenda lowered the coffee cup, and started playing with the lid. "Look, dead kids… they happen. It sucks. And, you know, I really shouldn't say it's easier, but it kind of is when the dead person's adult."

"What makes you think I'm dwelling on the child?" Mewtwo asked, impressed despite himself. That was the longest, most touching speech he'd heard Brenda say.

Not that he had much to compare it to. Nevertheless…

"You're over here looking like you want to set a tree on fire with your eyes, there hasn't really been anything else to set you off recently. Unless you took what Rawn said personally?"

"Rawn can jump off a cliff," he muttered.

"Figured he could, but… Okay, look. There's a departmental shrink, I'm always available for midnight chats, and I'm sure Sheryl wouldn't mind if you needed a sounding board. Oh, and if you screw up with your illusion around people I can't intimidate into keeping quiet, I'm going to shove your head so far up your ass you'll be seeing daylight."

Mewtwo blinked, and leaned back against the tree. Again, one of the longer speeches he'd heard from the Detective, and one that was… oddly touching. In a disturbing, nerve wracking sort of way.

Sunday, August 2, 6:51 A.M.

Mewtwo rubbed one paw over his face, and hissed at the window. It was covered in blackout curtains, yet he could sense the morning sunlight just past that fragile barrier. He had not had a good night's sleep. Once the work of last night's crime scene had been seen to, the required paperwork filled out, he had ended up not reaching his apartment until one in the morning.

He had not been long in patience, either, and had left several petty thugs nursing injuries when they attempted to mug him on his way home. You would have thought the cop's uniform would have warned them off, but apparently it was just an incentive.

It was now far too early in the morning to be up, yet he was. It was most unpleasant.

A quick shower cleared the fog from his mind. He had a store of food in the cabinets, and some perishables in the fridge, but he rarely ate at his apartment. Fortunately for his stomach, Brenda had almost ordered him to continue eating meals at her house. Dinners were usually spent at her house, but breakfasts were safer eaten alone. The Detective was grumpier then he was in the mornings- and she carried her gun.

He had a jug of cider in the fridge, one of the few drinks besides water he could stand. It was also adept at waking him up the rest of the way, as compared to water or milk. He couldn't begin to imagine how Brenda and the other cops could stand coffee, whatever its state. Couldn't they smell it?

He drank his cider slowly, and worked methodically through several fruit. Sometimes- but no, he was a civilized creature. Civilized creatures did not eat the badly seared flesh of other creatures.

Even if he did have fangs and was a cat.

He had just finished when someone started pounding at his door. He considered answering it, but in his part of town it was just as likely to be a trap.

The pounding ceased, the doorknob rattled once, and then someone cursed. Rather loudly, rather fluently, with several familiar terms. He started to stand up, when the door swung open.

Brenda stepped in- and froze. Mewtwo sighed, rubbed at his face, and gestured with one paw. She started moving again- and yelling. The door swung closed behind her, but she didn't seem to notice.

"What the fuck was that?"

"My security system," he said, and reset it with a thought. Now Brenda was exempt, as he was. Everyone else would still be frozen, however. "Do you recall back when we first met, with the dragons? How you kept trying to walk down the hall in the lab, and kept turning back?"

"Not really. Your security system is a psychic thing?" Brenda's expression was wary, and then tired. "Whatever. It doesn't really matter so long as it works, right?"

"Correct. Is there a reason you're here at seven in the morning? And lucid?"

"Fuck you."

Mewtwo just looked at Brenda. It was seven in the morning, he'd had a long night, she'd had a long night… There had to be a reason for this intrusion but he just couldn't think of what it might be.

Brenda rolled her eyes and leaned up against the wall. "This- right, against the rules to talk about your apartment. Damn it."

He smirked, and looked around the space. It was a box, with a closet near the door, a tiny bathroom beside the closet, and one window. There was the miniature kitchenette, space enough for a bed large enough for him to sleep comfortably, and very little room left over for anything else.

"It's not like I need much room," he pointed out, and was treated to a glare that would have set his fur on fire, if it hadn't been against the laws of nature and physics. "What do you want, Detective?"

"You want a list?" he heard her mutter. Then she cleared her throat and straightened up. "Look, I want to get a jump on today. Sooner we close the case with the kid, less likely we'll find any more of them."

Mewtwo leaned back in his seat, and smiled. Brenda looked almost embarrassed, as if it were a crime for her to care about the dead. "I have no problem with an early start," he found himself saying. "Where do we go first?"

"The lab," Brenda said. "I don't want paper on this, I want a person."

He nodded and stood up. "I hope you didn't drive here," he said. "You'll lose your engine, tires, and stereo."

"Still don't have a car," she muttered.

Mewtwo decided not to ask how she'd gotten to his apartment. He did, however, feel somewhat sorry for any of the human refuse that had run across her. Maybe next time they'd be smarter and leave her alone.

Sunday, August 2, 8:00 A.M.

Brenda didn't like labs. The chatter between all the geeks and nerds- polycarbonate whatevers and hydro-fuckwits, she didn't know- was like getting her teeth drilled at the dentist.

She'd avoided her dentist for nearly five years now, but that was besides the point.

However much she hated labs, she knew that her partner hated them more. Probably went back to his history with Team Rocket- but he'd never volunteered, and she'd never asked. Maybe some other time, when she didn't remember he was a powerful psychic and could kill her as soon as think at her. Soon as she forgot that, then sure, she'd ask. She'd probably end up tossed through a few walls, but Mewtwo would tell her the story, soon as she got off the drugs. He had a weird guilty conscience.

She headed straight for Scary Sherry, Queen of the Forensics Lab. And if Sherry didn't have the information Brenda wanted, then Scary Sherry was going to meet the Demon Bitch Cop.

Mewtwo slanted a look down at her; Brenda noticed it out of the corner of her eye. "What?"

"Don't you think you're being just a little overly dramatic?"

"Huh?"

"'Scary Sherry'," he quoted.

Brenda sneered. "Everyone calls her that. Shut up."

Besides, they were already at Sherry's work station. Like all smart people, Sherry disdained an office, kept hers for paperwork and annoying visitors. There was also rumored to be a complete human skeleton with real bones, but as Brenda had never seen Sherry's office, she could neither confirm nor deny the rumors.

"Got anything for me?" Brenda asked.

Sherry looked up, managing to look both annoyed and welcoming at the same time. Had to be a gift. "Glass is all from the cars, blood's been run through, no matches. O negative. Fingerprints were too smeared to get a match. Doubt Rawn's vandal and your killer's same person."

"Probably not, but it'll have to stay open until we find something else," Brenda said, impressed despite herself. "You know how to bottom line it."

"I hear my guys talk about you. Don't want to end up stuffed in a trash can, me."

"It only happened the once."

"It was enough."

Brenda chuckled, and nodded at the door. Mewtwo led the way, and so was the first to notice a note taped to the stairwell door.

"The morgue's been moved," he said.

"How'd you figure that one?"

He pointed at the note. "I guess we go downstairs."

"Morgue's supposed to be downtown," she grumbled, but pushed open the stairwell door. "And I hate stairs."

"Mm," Mewtwo said, not quite agreeing- but not disagreeing either. "I suppose they wanted space for another evidence locker."

"Guess so. And it's kinda handy, isn't it? Find something weird on the body, just take it upstairs and have it analyzed."

"Quite."

Brenda pushed open the morgue door, and narrowed her eyes. "Sam? You there?"

A young man in a lab coat turned away from the computer monitors. "Sam was promoted a month ago. I'm Ben McClure." He didn't block the entrance, but he did stand between the police officer and the cadaver on the examination table.

"Why are you here?" Brenda stalked forward the three steps necessary to loom over this new guy. "And what are you doing with my body?"

Mewtwo rolled his eyes, and followed in Brenda's wake. He'd jump in when she needed him, but in the mean time, he'd be amused.

"Your body?" The coroner rubbed his temple, but didn't back away. "I think you're mistaken, officer. I am Dr. Benjamin McClure, the tri-precinct coroner, and I was completing the superficial examination of the Jane Doe." He glanced at her nameplate, but "Johnson" hadn't been one of the officers on the retrieval team.

Brenda bared her teeth in a grin. "Homicide cop, kid. That Jane Doe's mine. And for the record, I'm a detective- or can't you tell blue jeans from the uniform blues?"

"Detective Johnson. You will receive my full report when I am done with my examination. I normally would have been able to provide you with details hours ago, but I have found several abnormalities that require investigation."

"Then you can explain about these abnormalities in person, yeah?" Brenda gestured at Mewtwo and arched one eyebrow. "He'll translate."

Before responding, he looked at the clipboard still in his hands. Detectives Johnson and Smith, primary investigators... yes, someone had left a notice about Johnson. "I performed an X-ray, which is standard for cases with blunt trauma involved. When reviewing the X-ray, I found abnormal patterns in the maturation of epiphyseal plates. The lab upstairs ran a full DNA sequence, and I am in the process of analyzing several odd markers in Miss Doe's genome."

Brenda looked over at Mewtwo, hopelessness in every line of her face. Mewtwo chuckled, and shoved away from the wall. "Perhaps, Dr. McClure, you could manage that last bit for someone who didn't graduate from Medical school?" He looked back at Brenda. "He x-rayed the body, found some odd things with the bones, and is now going to explain just what he means by that."

"Perhaps we can continue in my office?" Ben offered. "I know enough to give a cursory explanation. The partial report should be ready by this evening."

Brenda arched her eyebrows, but followed after the dead doctor and her partner to the office. She scanned it, snorted at the poster for the first Star Trek series, rolled her eyes at the Star Wars poster, and sneered at the organized, over size desk. "Okay Hades, get a move on. Quicker we know what we're dealing with, quicker we can find the bad guy."

"Hades?" She seemed to be talking to him.

"Yeah. Talking?"

Ben shook his head, but flicked on the large, flat light along one wall. The two strangest X-rays were already in place. "I knew from looking at these that the case would take some time. Miss Doe appears to be 12 or 13, but these two bones are already fused." He pointed at the base of the breastbone. "The xyphoid process is already joined to the sternum, which shouldn't happen until 15 at the very earliest."

"Uh..." Brenda looked over at Mewtwo, who shook his head. Apparently, he was just as lost. "What's a ziphid?"

"Ah. My apologies." Ben pointed at a faint line visible in the breastbone. "Infants are not born with one solid breastbone. There are three pieces, which fuse together as the child grows. The xiphoid process is this part at the bottom, named for its resemblance to a sword." He doubted that the detective wanted to hear every detail. "Perhaps it would be better if I summarized. Coroners can estimate the age of a victim by seeing which bones have fused. These patterns are very accurate, but Miss Doe is completely out of the expected pattern. I cannot give an accurate estimation of her age, because her development is unprecedented."

"Okay, Hades? Just so you know, I don't do science. I don't do growth patterns or ziffy processes or jack all, okay? Bottom line it. Jane Doe's age is weird, I get that. Stick with simple things like that and we'll get along fine."

"Again, my apologies. I earned my doctorate just last month, and that tends to make one speak very accurately." He turned the lights off and stepped away from the x-rays. "I will try to be more clear about Miss Doe's genome- DNA sequence. The human sequence is three billion units long. Miss Doe has less than one billion, and several mutations I could find in one hour on the computer."

"Someone altered the girl's DNA," Mewtwo said, his voice tight. Brenda looked over at him, and shifted slightly so she could keep both Hades and Mewtwo in view at the same time. Hades was harmless, but Mewtwo looked like he was going to explode. "Human DNA is, as Dr. McClure said, long, and mostly filled with useless information. Someone clipped most of that information out."

"What, while she was still alive?"

Ben shook his head. "Embryonic. Someone wasn't satisfied to try cloning, but decided to play God. From the most basic examination, someone did not do very well. I observed several indications of severe illness, but my current estimate for cause of death is severe fractures to the cervical vertebrae."

Okay, now her partner looked like he'd plugged a fork into a toaster. He was sparking, blue crackles of... blue energy arching about his form. Any minute now and there wouldn't be a lab. "Please tell me I don't have to arrest a god," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "I'm pretty sure any of mine wouldn't be involved in this- they're more like people."

"Officer Smith," Ben said. "If necessary, I will happily speak with both of you upstairs. We have a conference room that is very well shielded, because most of the equipment we own is worth two years' salary." He didn't know how much good that would do, but at least he had tried. His supervisors wouldn't fire him in his second week, would they? "No gods, Detective Johnson, just some very arrogant scientists. If I can get the cooperation of your department, I would like protective custody for Miss Doe's body until your investigation is complete. Some scientists like to reclaim subjects, but Miss Doe has had quite enough."

Since Mewtwo was now looking like his anger was being redirected at one innocent scientist, Brenda stepped between the two men, her back to her partner. "Conference room isn't necessary," she said, and attempted a back kick into Mewtwo's ankle. It didn't connect, but she hadn't expected it to. "As for protective custody, it's yours."

Like she understood about scientists wanting a body- but if you got right down to the basic facts, the body was evidence; the evidence had to stay with them.

Ben was oblivious to Mewtwo's anger, still distracted with a puzzle. "I don't know how much more I can tell you, at the moment. Miss Doe's genome was obviously changed while she was still a fetus. My current hypothesis is that scientists were modulating hormones to control her growth, which would imply the scientists still had control over her life. Her organ systems were doing poorly, but she was killed when three of her cervical vertebrae were crushed." He removed a sheet from his clipboard, a black and white sketch of a young girl. "I always have one of the sketch artists draw the victim, for the coversheet of my records. Perhaps this will help your investigation."

"Photographs would've been more helpful, but this should do. Thanks." Brenda tucked the papers under one arm, and tried to back up. Mewtwo however seemed to have become an immovable wall. She growled, and shoved one shoulder back into his chest; his tail thumped against her good leg in warning.

"Are you saying this girl was experimented on?" Mewtwo asked, not really doubting the answer. "Have you compared her DNA with the records, yet?"

"Yes," Ben said. "I don't like to make statements before the full autopsy, but I cannot think of another explanation. I believe that continued life as an experimental subject explains several unexpected traits in Miss Doe. I sent her DNA records in for comparison an hour ago." He moved on to an easier point. "I do have photographs, detective, and will supply them if you prefer. I typically use sketches of respect for the dead."

Brenda nodded. "Sketches are fine, then." She dug out her card, and tossed it onto the desk. "The moment you get anything on this case, call my cell phone, don't wait to put it in a report." She elbowed Mewtwo in the stomach, finally getting him to move. "I want to look at the body before we go."

Ben hesitated, but nodded. "This would be the best time, detective. I was about to begin the autopsy when you arrived, and Miss Doe will require the full work-up. Perhaps you would like to see a point of interest about the wound to her spine, so long as we are in the morgue?"

"Sure." Brenda gestured Mewtwo over towards the door, and bit her tongue when he ignored her. A few things were starting to come together in her mind- the girl was an experiment, he'd been one too- and she wasn't liking the picture that was forming. Mewtwo did have a temper, after all, and everyone had their buttons.

"Alright," she said, staring down at the little girl. She didn't look any less angelic or vulnerable, washed and laid out on the table. "What's weird?"

Ben had pulled on latex gloves on the way to the table. He brushed the girl's pale blonde hair aside, and gently turned her head away from them. "Here," he said. "I've never seen bones crushed like this. The transverse processes of the bones were.." He only hesitated a moment. "The pieces of the bone coming out sideways were broken, by a very high amount of pressure. The pattern of fractures suggests that this break was done with a single hand." He rested his hand beneath the deeply bruised area. "Coroners and surgeons do far better to have small hands." The bruising was only as wide as three of his fingers.

"Someone crushed her neck with their hand?" she asked, figuring it out after only a minute. Actually seeing the bruising helped. "I've seen bruises like this before, but on arms, not necks," she muttered, leaning closer.

"Someone crushed her spine with a single hand, which means you're working with a small killer of exceptional strength." He measured the width of the bruise with a ruler. He used calipers for accurate measurements, but this was a demonstration. "Less than two inches." Ben repositioned the body very carefully, then drew an arm from beneath the thin black sheet, then laid a ruler across the girl's knuckles. "Less than two inches."

"So, the victim's size." Brenda tilted her head, tried to visualize the scene. "How could anyone this young be that strong?" She shook her head, and leaned back. "Thanks. You should... figure out the weirdness."

"I have a guess." He readjusted the sheet carefully, then stepped away from the table. "Miss Doe has a highly modified genotype. Perhaps some scientist who fashioned himself quite clever did not stop with her."

Mewtwo's tail lashed at the air. Brenda could feel the brush of disturbed air. "I'll keep that in mind," she said. "Thanks." She hesitated, then brushed her fingers against the dead girl's shoulder, muttered something no one was supposed to hear. She nodded to the dead doctor and backed away from the table. "Smith, let's go."

Ben studied Miss Doe's DNA for a few minutes, waiting until the door leading to the basement morgue opened and closed. When it was clear that the detectives would not double back, he turned on his recorder. "McClure at 8: 15 A.M., Sunday, August second, beginning the autopsy of Miss Jane Doe, Doe 1645 in tri-precinct records."

End Notes

I find I keep changing the way I put a break between scenes. At first it was only the day of the week, bolded and centered; now it's the date and time, underlined and nicely tucked away to the side. Maybe if I ever have oodles and oodles of time on my hands, I'll go back and edit everything so it's alike. Then again, maybe I'll just write new stuff. Heh. Anyways- enjoy this latest instalment of the Sword and Shield Universe. And look up the song Chosen Fate on YouTube, it's the theme song.