Chapter Text
Kovacs stormed into the Raven Hotel’s lobby and immediately caught sight of Poe at the front desk, unshaken as ever at his bloodied appearance ( most it not his, as per usual) carrying an unconscious girl. Then Ortega followed him in like clockwork.
“How is the hotel any safer than my place? And what about medical treatment?” she asked as he made a beeline for the elevator.
“I can assure you, Ms. Ortega that I may be able to instruct Mr. Kovacs in a number of procedures should...this young lady need it,” Poe said cheerfully and for once, his annoyance at the AI went down a tick, jerked his chin at Poe.
“What he said,” he said with finality though nothing was final with Ortega. The crimson glow of the elevator’s panels washed over them and the girl gave a pitiful moan, and it occurred to him that Ortega was in the cramped space with him and was likely to follow him to his room. The two lab assistants had begged for their lives and he very nearly ended them but Ortega had wanted to question them, take them in. He glanced down at the girl in his arms as she began to speak about how he was in the middle of just about everyone’s crosshairs, but just who everyone was, well he was damn well going to figure it out.
“Take your guys to investigate but she stays with me. This has something to do with Bancroft’s murder,” he asserted. Kristin sighed exasperatedly and gestured wildly.
“How could you possibly know that?” she asked, brow creasing.
“Envoy’s intuition,’ he groused as the elevator doors opened.
One of the greatest ways you gleaned information was not in the way most people thought. Thought and consciousnesses flowed like a river, in brooks and streams, and in oceans in huge cities. And like all oceans, you had to be careful or get swept up and thrashed by the water. The water could flood your lungs and carry the life out of you. You were held in someone’s arms and cradled to their chest, smelled the unnerving metallic tang of blood and sweat that wasn’t dirty, simply male. Picked up the full name now that its owner was making physical contact with you, Takeshi Kovacs. A name and face that didn’t match what the mind knew. This caused you to jerk in the man’s arms and he cursed, quickened his pace and you felt something soft underneath you. Trapped in the daze and dull pain, occasionally twitching and whimpering, you looked pathetic. There was a thin ribbon of blood and clear fluid flowing from where the needle had been injected and then removed.
“You don’t believe what they said about her, do you?” the woman asked, Ortega you barely registered, pulled from the immediate surface of Kovacs’ mind.
“I’m not sure what I believe,” Kovacs said. Deep voice and slightly rough, it was not entirely unpleasant. The man and woman were no immediate threat to you so you drifted a while longer, just a little while longer.
“I’m staying and when she wakes up, let me do the talking,” Ortega said and Kovacs made a noncommittal noise and you sensed they had reached some sort of rare stalemate, not quite a negotiation. Picked up more bits and pieces as Kovacs and Ortega settled in for the time being. Names like Samir and Alazne (mama) floated easily through the stream of thought and then there it was, deep aching trauma. You let out a tiny whimper that Ortega missed but Takeshi immediately looked over to you, brow creased. A serious-faced dark-skinned woman, long braids falling down her back. An armed guard, a praetorian stared you down and you felt the flood of anger and bitterness and white-hot fury and they opened fire, bullets tearing open your chest. The scream bubbled out of your throat and Kovacs and Ortega ran over, slowed down as you fell out of the bed and scrambled backward until your back touched something solid.
Gasping raggedly, you slapped a hand to your chest which was devoid of bullet wounds but for a split second, you did see blood on your hand.
“It’s okay, you’re safe. You’re safe,” Ortega soothed and you nodded weakly. Ortega was short and muscular with dark eyes and hair while Kovacs was tall, somewhat broad, had sandy hair and gray-blue eyes. There was some busted skin around his nose which indicated a scrap of some sort. The face you saw now did not match what was in his head, though the face you had seen was fading rapidly. It was hard to retain things you picked up on when barely conscious. Ortega reached out to touch your shoulder and you flinched hard.
“Don’t!” You squeaked and she retracted her hand. You weren’t sure what had been done to you but anymore contact and you might fall under again. Kovacs dropped gracefully into a crouch.
“ Can you tell me your name?” he asked and Ortega shot him a look but let it slide.
“Y/n. Y/n L/n.” You told them softly, gaining some of your bearings.
“Y/n, everything is going to be alright. I’m a police officer and I promise you can trust me,” she said but you knew that already. Believed you could trust Kristin Ortega.
“Kovacs is...you can trust him too,” she said somewhat begrudgingly. “Do you know who took you?” she asked.
“No. I was drugged at a party. I didn’t see anything until I woke up and then..” You shook your head then reached up a trembling hand to the side of your head but then thought better of it.
“Those lab idiots said you were clairvoyant,” Kovacs stated bluntly and Ortega shot him a death glare.
“Well,” you started, “It’s as true as anyone willing to believe it and stick needles in my head. Depends on if you’ll even believe me,” you said.
“It was a little bigger than a needle,” Kovacs muttered and you snorted, much to Ortega’s surprise. Got to laugh at life or never stop crying.
“So...where are we?” You asked, taking a more assured step forward and glancing around. There was a sitting area beyond the bed that was comprised of two rather comfy looking antique chairs with cream fabric and a chaise lounge with the same fabric. Some gauzy curtains moved gently above the archway leading to the balcony. It was all authentic if the tingling down your neck and spine were any indication and you’d hold off on physical contact until your mind stopped feeling like a livewire gone rogue.
“The Raven hotel,” Kovacs said, then, “You were taken if you were clairvoyant which might not even be true,” he stated bluntly.
“You were abducted because someone believed you had abilities,” Ortega cut in.
“If they wanted me to go around poking for information without anyone knowing what was happening, then sticking a steak knife in my head may or may not have done the job,” you said exasperatedly then Kovacs got a look of concentration.
“You can hack people without them even knowing,” he uttered.
“I mean, I wouldn’t exactly call it-" you started.
"If whoever took you can get you near just the right people, maybe at just the right time, then you’ll get all the information they need without ever risking exposure,” he stated. “Then you believe what I can do?” You asked.
“We’ll see about that,” Kovacs grumbled. Oh, he believed something alright.