Neurotypical

An Alphas fanfic by SJO

Note: Alphas is (or was) the property of Syfy Channel, not me. This takes place sometime during the first season after "Rosetta." I actually had this idea since season one, but I haven't shared it because I thought maybe the show might have it's own version, but obviously, that's not gonna happen.

Nina groaned loudly and slammed her laptop. "Stupid wireless!" she yelled.

"Don't blame the network!" an annoyed voice said outside.

She looked out the door and saw her young colleague pacing in the hall. "Oh, Gary. I didn't know you were here."

"Yeah, Mom just dropped me off," he answered. "You're not anywhere the signal."

"Well, my laptop is on my desk where it's always been, and it's picked it up fine before."

Gary went into her office and saw a fading blue and white streak of light on the far edge of the room. "Well, it's weak, and it's on the other side of the room. You gotta move your desk over there."

"Gary, I'm not gonna-"

"Or get Bill to move it. He's strong."

"I'm not moving my desk. Luckily, this is a laptop. I can take it wherever I want." So she took her laptop, sat on the other side of the room, and tried to connect again. "Oh, come on!" Then she got an idea and looked up. "Hey Gary, could you maybe pull the signal over here?"

"That's not how it works. I'm not an antenna. But I can find whatever you want."

"I'm trying to get on Facebook, Gary."

"Well, I can read your newsfeed. Is that what you want?"

"No, I just wanna get on myself, and I don't have a lot of time."

Gary wandered out and then wandered back in. "The signal's better in Rachel's office."

"OK, thank you." She got up and went next door. "Hey, Rach, can I use your office for a little bit?"

"Uh, I guess so," Rachel said uncertainly. She figured it was the most she could do since Nina was letting her stay at her apartment.

So Nina brought her laptop in, sat down in a chair, and pulled up Facebook. "Yes!" Then she clicked on the Games sidebar and brought up—

"Farmville?" Gary was looking over her shoulder. "This is the big computer emergency, Farmville?"

"Hey, if I don't harvest these crops within the hour, they'll die. I've worked too hard for that."

"Nina, I had no idea you were a gamer," Rachel giggled.

Nina laughed nervously. "I'm not a gamer! I just started playing this game one day when I was bored, and I got hooked. It's kinda a high-maintenance game. It's not really all that fun unless you have a lot of friends playing with you. Sometimes I wish I could push people online."

"I need to get in on that game. I've always wanted to indulge of the joys of a simple farm life without all the horrid smells of animals and loud noises of machinery."

"I've been on a real farm," Gary interrupted.

The girls turned to Gary, now leaning back in a chair as he said this, surprised that he took the conversation in this direction. "Uh, really?" Nina said.

"Yeah. I went to Nebraska one summer when I was a kid. My aunt and uncle have a farm there. They raise corn."

"What was it like, Gary?" Rachel asked.

"It was very smelly, but besides that I liked it. There were no lights, no buzzing, no voices. I woke every day with the rooster's crow at sunrise, but it was still the most sleep I've ever gotten before Dr. Rosen helped me."

"That's because there wasn't a lot of electricity there, isn't it?"

"Yeah, they just had a phone. No computer, no TV, no radio. Uncle Rocky said there was too much work to be done to mess with them. I didn't wanna leave, but my dad made me."

"Your dad?" Nina asked. "I don't think I've seen him. I've only seen your mother."

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Awe, is it bad, Buddy? Did he divorce? Is he still-?"

"He's in jail!" Gary said rather suddenly. "He's a bad man. He did something bad, and now he's in jail."

"Hey!" Hicks was walking past the room, and he stopped in the doorway. "That's not always true, Gary. I know some people in jail; they're friends."

"They're bad friends. You shouldn't be friends with them."

"People in jail aren't always bad people. Some just made big mistakes, but they don't-"

"Good people do good things. Bad people do bad things. I saw it in a movie. You don't get in jail for doing good things."

"It's his father," Rachel told Hicks quietly. "It's probably pretty messy." Hicks looked like he was about to say something else when Bill interrupted them.

"Well, you can continue this argument later. Rosen says we have a case."

They got into their van and raced downtown to an apartment fire. Rachel turned green right as they pulled up. "Oh, I hate fires! It's the only thing I know of that assaults every single one of my senses."

"You can just stay in the van, then, Rachel," Dr. Rosen said. "All I need you to do is listen for vital signs."

"I don't get it, Lee," Bill said. "The fire department is here, and they look like they got everything under control."

"According to Agent Sullivan, someone with Red Flag connections was spotted around this area just before the apartment went up in flames. She fears someone living here was targeted by Red Flag, and we have to find out who."

"How are we gonna do that?" Hicks asked.

"Well, we'll start by making sure everyone gets out safely. That's where you and Bill come in. You go through there and rescue anyone the firefighters missed. Rachel, you guide them. Gary, I want you to check the security camera feeds surrounding the area, make sure you see who gets out. And Nina, I need you to use your abilties to calm people down, and I'll help you."

"Hey, we aren't fireproof, Doc," Bill argued.

"Sullivan sent us some equipment to help with that. It's not much, though. Just go as fast as you can."

So everybody got to their tasks. Rachel moved to the front of the van to get a closer reading. Gary stayed in the back. He found a security camera pointed toward the back entrance. A stream of people were filing out, mostly families. There were so many, it was somewhat overwhelming for him. He switched to another camera by the side entrance. People were running out of it, panicked. That wasn't much better. He switched to a camera in an adjacent parking garage, and suddenly his heart jumped in his throat. He saw a man. It was hard to tell much about his features in the black and white film, but Gary knew his face.

"No," he whispered.

"What is it, Gary?" Rachel asked.

"No," he said a little louder. "It can't be. It's impossible." He got out of the van, took a deep breath of fresh air. He started pacing, mumbling, "It's impossible. It couldn't have been him. It was just someone who looked like him," and other reassuring statements. He forgot about his job and fixated on what he saw. He checked the camera again and saw no one. "Maybe it was just my imagination," he said to himself. He just wanted to sit down and rock or flap his hands, anything to shake off this feeling of dread.

The fire was starting to die down. Gary checked the camera ten times, but he didn't see the man again. "Maybe he got away," he thought aloud. But the more he thought about it, the more he thought the danger was past. He assured himself he was mistaken, and even if he wasn't, his friends would protect him.

Then, he saw him again.

He was in the middle of the crowd of survivors, standing with a motorcycle helmet under his arm. He was looking at the fire, but then his eyes locked onto Gary. Familiarity crossed his face. He even started to walk toward Gary. Gary went pale, and he could hear his heart in his ears. He started hyperventilating, and he felt himself go dizzy.

"Gary!" a voice called in the distance.

"No!" he said turning away.

But then he felt a hand on his elbow. "Gary?" It was Dr. Rosen. "What are you doing out here? Are you all right?"

Gary looked at him. "Dr. Rosen, are we almost done?"

"Well, I think we're just about done, yes. What did you-?"

Gary ran back to the van and slammed the door. "Rachel, is there anybody else in there?"

She closed her eyes. "I don't hear any more heartbeats."

"Good! We gotta get outta here." He moved back and hid his face with his jacket.

"When?"

"Now! Come on, Rachel, tell everyone to hurry!"

She got on the radio and said, "Uh, Gary's pretty intent on leaving. I don't really know why, but if you're done, please get down here."

"Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on," Gary kept saying over and over. Even when everybody got into the van, he kept saying it. "CAN'T WE GO ANY FASTER!" he finally screamed.

"We're going the speed limit, Gary," Bill called back. "In case you haven't noticed, we don't have a siren on this vehicle.

"What's the matter, Gary, you have to pee?" Nina smirked.

"No! It's just . . . I need to get something in my office!" It was the best excuse he could think of.

"And why do you have your face down in your jacket like that? What are you hiding from, the paparrazi?"

"I'm . . . I'm cold."

"Why don't you tell us what's wrong?" Rachel asked.

"NOTHING'S WRONG!"

"Yes, there is. Your heart is beating like mad, and," she sniffed, "you smell like Bill."

"No, no I don't."

"You do, Gary. You're sweating, and there's adrenaline mixed in your sweat."

He couldn't think of any other excuses. "I don't wanna talk about it! Leave me alone!"

"Alright, that's enough," Dr. Rosen said. "Let's give Gary some space. He'll talk to us when he's ready."

Once they got to the office, Gary threw open the door to the van, ran out as fast as he could, and did not stop running until he got into his office. Then he shut the door, sat in a chair, curled his knees up to his chest, and started rocking and moaning.

The others were talking to each other about what was going on with Gary and how to help. Dr. Rosen went back to his office to file a report about their case, and Rachel went to her office to get some calming aroma therapy candles. Just after she left, the elevator dinged, and someone carrying a motorcycle helmet got off.

"Excuse me?" the man asked in a deep but still somewhat meek voice.

Bill turned around. "I'm sorry, sir, this area is classified."

"I understand. I won't be here long, sir. I'm looking for someone, and I just want to talk to him for ten minutes. He's got . . . black hair, blue eyes, about yea tall, skinny—his name's Gary Bell?"

"Sir, I'm afraid I can't confirm nor deny—"

Suddenly the man's tone changed as he glared and pointed threateningly at Bill. "Don't give me that! Don't even-!" He swallowed and tried to contain himself. "I saw him, and I followed you. I know he's here."

Bill looked like he might throw the guy out, but then Nina touched his arm. "It's OK, Bill, I got this." She got in between him and the man and looked into the man's eyes. "Don't you realize how late it is? You're missing your dentist appointment. Just look at your watch."

The man slowly gazed down at his wrist. "I don't have time," he said softly.

"That's right. You should get on your motorcycle and drive to your dentist office as fast as you can. Maybe you'll make it."

"I don't have time," he repeated.

Something wasn't right. "Why are you still standing here?"

He looked up. "I don't . . . have . . . TIME!" Before she knew it, the man pushed Nina out of the way and ran past her. Bill tried to stop him, but he was going too fast. The man then opened a door and looked in. "Gary?" He shook his head and shut it. He opened another door. "Gary!" Not that one either. He opened another. "Gary?"

"DCIS!" Gary showed him his badge. "DON'T COME ANY CLOSER! I WILL HAVE YOU ARRESTED!"

The man stood in the doorway and smiled. "Nice to see you too, Son."