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merrymelodyThe Virtue AU no one asked for.
There was a prompt on the old Misfits kink meme asking for a virtue AU in which Nathan got turned (here)
Then I did some overly long meta in which I really wanted to see Alisha slashed (and got super smug when I read the script book after and found out they cut a scene in which Alisha thinks Sally the probation worker's hitting on her.)
So it became an Alisha/Rachel (implied - hdu, Virtue are chaste as the day is long, or something) fic, with some minor Nathan/Simon.
A03 link here.
Chapter 1
So...the power thing works on girls.
She saw a few girls staring at her at the clubs, guessed she must have brushed past them or up against their boyfriends, but she's not bothered about it, to be honest.
When she was at school, all the girls wanted to be her friend anyway, so they could meet the older guys who used to stare at her.
Chloe and Lucy used to compete over who brushed out Alisha's hair, or put on her makeup for her, who got to sleep top-tails with her and who got the twin bed, who sat shotgun in her car.
Chloe's kissed her a few times, mostly when they want to particularly impress the boys, like the drinks are really overpriced or her dad's taken the car away, but then Chloe nearly fucked her brother, so she's not exactly choosy.
The weird parole officer tried giving her her number, telling her how pretty she was, to call any time if she needed to talk.
Alisha doesn't know if it's down to the powers or she's just a lezzy, but she's not willing to take the risk finding out.
She doesn't throw the number away, though. She might not be able to persuade a copper not to press charges, but there's no point in pissing off someone who's in charge of how long she has to spend picking up dogshit and cleaning sewers. Maybe she can at least get off a few days for period pains or something, maybe even some tears over the nasty policeman and his truncheon.
She texts Sally a few times, nothing big - once is to pick her up after she throws up in the cab, another on Simon, of all people's suggestion, telling her about some crazy policeman.
She doesn't know how the little freak even knew Sally had was her number.
He's the one who's been sucking up to her, anyway, he was in her office twice as long as anyone else.
She thought maybe he was just being creepy - he seems like the type who'd get off on having a mummy figure there to spoil him, but he tells her he has an idea he wants to investigate - puts it just like that, as if he's Inspector fucking Morse, probably with a pair of knickers in the briefcase instead of a magnifying glass.
So she does her best sobbing and catapults into Sally's twiggy little arms for their interview, snotting all over her cardigan about this scary cop in the club the other night who got a bit rough checking her ankle bracelet.
In her mind she's picturing the prick who caught her with a wrap a few months back, the one who seems to think he's going to bring down Thamesmead’s answer to Scarface or something, instead of just being a twat with a badge.
She describes him, and Sally takes unexpected interest, asking for details. 'Was he talking to anyone?'
'I dunno', Alisha stalls.
She doesn't know what Simon's up to, but if he won't share his master plan, she's always been good at improvisation.
'He was talking to a big bloke, grey t-shirt. He was in his civvies, so I didn't know til he showed me his badge who he even was!'
She ends the last syllable on a whine for no other reason than drama, this is already getting boring.
Sally's more rapt than ever, though, so Simon should be happy, she's already been in here half an hour. 'Did you get his name?'
'Yeah, Pete Josephs. Detective Pete.'
She's had it for now, a bit fucked off with Sally for so obviously pumping her, forgetting for a moment that her story was fake. So she tells her that Nathan needs to speak to her.
This naturally dominates the rest of the day, leaving her and Curtis an afternoon in the stock cupboard.
It's alright. Curtis checks himself out as much as her, but she gets that. Sometimes she gets off more afterwards, thinking about it, then when it's happening. The more blokes you fuck, the more you realise how few blokes can fuck well.
Now she's not fucking anyone, she doesn't miss the sex as much as she'd thought, but she feels a bit sad sometimes after wanking.
She was always good at it, even taught Chloe where the clit was, but she does miss the non-coming parts of sex - slow tongues sliding against each other. Her arse being grabbed. Sometimes even her neck being kissed, which is so pathetic.
At leaving time, Simon's rematerialised, perched quietly on the locker room bench eating a sandwich, like some sort of gnome. Kelly's still pissed off about Jodie. Nathan's smug, watching Sally's car tear out as if her house is burning down.
'I almost feel sorry for her', mutters Curtis. 'Can you imagine having to help that prick?'
'Hey!' interjects Nathan, who has some kind of attention whore radar behind his stupid hair. 'I just made some serious progress, man, scraping the depths of my soul! This is why she got into this job!'
'You told her you got touched up, didn't you?' Alisha says tiredly.
Nathan rolls his eyes. 'I'm not that predictable.'
Even Simon raises a sceptical eyebrow.
'Okay, fine, but the classics are hard to beat for a reason, she'll be all day on the paperwork alone! That's an official disclosure, it'll cunt up at least the next 48 hours. You're just lucky I didn't tell her about you, Barry, you've definitely victimised my poor anus.'
Curtis looks horrified, but Simon seems less moody than a few weeks ago. He gives a fairly good attempt at a sneer, but doesn't allow Nathan to start showing off like usual, clearly intent on telling them something.
'We need to be careful what we say to Sally. I went to her house today.'
'Alright, weird kid!' Nathan cheers. 'Did you sniff her knickers? That's like, half way to popping your cherry, now you've just gotta do it when she's in them!'
'Shut up, alright? Fook!' explodes Kelly. 'I just failed my restorative justice thing, they could give me another six weeks here! This is serious, if she knows about Tony, we could be fooked! The flyover's only been up a week, they could still be looking for him!'
'He was dating Sally. Tony, I mean. They were together. At her house I found photos of them. That's why she's been hanging around here, trying to get us to trust her. She knows we had something to do with it.'
Shy Simon finally has all the attention in the room.
'Someone was instant messaging me on my computer. It started after we...after Tony. She's got Alisha's number. All our addresses. And she's friends with a policeman. He'd left a message on her machine.'
Everyone suddenly explodes into chatter. 'She's got your number?' asks Curtis.
Alisha questions his priorities, a little, personally. He’d alright in the nick, people know his name, but there's no way she's being some bull dyke's lipstick lover, which is a lot more pressing than who's got her number, which, by the way, is hardly a state secret.
'She wanted to talk to me, if she thinks I'm her little friend like him, she could let me out early or something!'
'What did you tell her, Alisha?' Simon asks in his serious way, intensely eyeballing her like some kind of tropical fish.
'Nothing! I just said I saw that twat, Detective Josephs, talking to someone at the club.'
'Someone who? A man or a woman?'
'A man! Just a bloke, I kept thinking about that twat', she nods her head in Nathan's direction, 'saying Tony ran off with Gary.'
'Maybe the cop's banging Tony!' Nathan suggests excitedly. 'Love across the divide, behind everyone's backs!'
'Tony's the dead one, you fucktard! And I didn't tell her they were fucking, I just said Pete was talking to a bloke who looked like Tony.'
Simon looks thoughtful.
Chapter 2
Summary:
Poor Kelly. I can't write for her, probably because I get all JK Rowling about spelling out her every word phonetically.
Whatever did happen to ole Pete? Think the last we see of him is 2x1 with Lucy!Simon. Anyway, let's pretend your faves added him to their murder spree. Sorry, Pete.
Two weeks later.
Sally hasn't come back to work.
Alisha’s a little bit scared, although she wouldn't admit it.
There's no way Nathan could stay quiet if he'd done something; and Kelly's weapon of choice is the headbutt, which while painful (as Alisha's learned from personal experience) is probably not fatal, even on a twig like Sally. Curtis would have told her.
That just leaves Simon, and while she's warming to him, if for nothing else than the silent worship he bestows upon them all (even Curtis, who thinks he's too cool, is not entirely immune to blatant adoration and endless attention. Nathan is naturally in heaven.), she's aware that he's...a little off, to put it mildly.
Halfway through that week, they're taking a break, crammed onto a crappy picnic table trying to block the winds from battering their stupid suits. Even Curtis has zipped his up for once, and Alisha's cold enough that she's actually pulled her jacket over her head. She hasn't purposefully let her hair get fucked since she was 13. Not even when she's getting fucked.
Nathan's trying to shove his feet on Curtis' lap, his head on Kelly's shoulder, and his hands in Simon's pockets, insisting that Irish people are genetically predisposed to pneumonia and that as the only one without powers, they have a sacred duty to protect him for the rest of their lives. Only Simon's daft enough to fall for it, which is when Nathan pulls out a credit card from his pocket.
'Barry, are you just pleased to see me or is this a down payment? I've told you, my love is not for sale!'
'What the fook?'
Kelly's either read Simon's mind, or she can read upside down. Alisha doesn't want to be mean, especially because of the headbutting, but she's betting on the former.
'It's Tony's!'
'It's...it's not like it looks', Simon struggles. 'I took it from her office. I thought if they traced it and saw it'd been used after he disappeared, the police would stop looking.'
'You've had a credit card all this time, and I'm still living out of a vending machine? Fuck that!' exclaims Nathan, grabbing for it.
'It can't be used, they could trace it back to us. I bought a flight, that way they'll think he left Sally.'
Alisha really, really doesn't want to ask. But if she doesn't, she doesn't know what's worse - if someone else does. Or nobody does.
'Where is Sally?'
Simon looks a little stung. 'I don't know.'
'I didn't mean - '
'Maybe she went looking for him.'
'Sure.'
'Maybe the detective went with her.' Simon catches Alisha's eye. For just a second, but she shivers, and not because it's cold.
She's always got Nathan, she doesn't have to like him, and to be honest, mostly she doesn't, but gets him.
They compete sometimes, like siblings. She blows a bottle, he deep throats an ice cream. She gets her tits out, he does a roof striptease.
Sometimes it's fun, the two of them dossing around, dancing, dressing up, all eyes on them. He usually wins because he has lower standards - he doesn't care whether the attention’s good or bad, whether people are sneering or leering. Alisha doesn't like to be laughed at.
She never thought she'd have anything in common with Simon, though, and she's not even sure if she does, but she recognises the look in his eyes when he spoke to her just now, and something in the tone.
Alisha's used to getting away with stuff. She's never had to make much effort, sometimes excuses just bubble over: 'Sorry I missed the exam, my nan’s got cancer.'
'He kissed me, I didn't know he was your boyfriend!'
'Of course I paid for that, look at me, I don't need to steal your shitty lipstick!'
Some people respond to tears, some to pleas, some to a flirty smile and a throaty giggle, but almost everyone gives in the end. Curtis pushes her sometimes on stuff, but even he's pretty soft underneath.
Simon Bellamy is a terrible liar, and hasn't the charm to get away with shit; but on his face is Alisha sees that same look she's recognised in the mirror. The one that will lie to anyone, even the reflection, to do what you need to.
Alisha's pretty peaceful, and she doesn't plan to hurt anyone unless they're coming for her. She hopes she and Simon agree on that.
Chapter 3
So...there's this girl.
A friend of the weirdoes on the hill, of that slapper Abby, who had sex with a gearstick.
She dresses like a nun. Nathan's particularly offended by the cardigan, whereas for Alisha's it's the sad grey heels.
Alisha's legs have never been her strongest point, they're toned and golden, of course, but she's short and therefore they look stumpy if she wears a hem below arselength.
Thankfully, she never does.
But this girl has perfect legs, the legs Alisha would kill for (well, maybe maim), and she's wearing this grey things that even her mum would reject. What a waste.
The girl approaches her a couple of times, and she's on the point of giving her some friendly advice ('your shoes are fucking rank' seems like a good beginning), but she swerves away at the last minute.
Maybe it's Nathan giving a rim job to his litter catcher.
She and Curtis make time for a quickie, today's been slow - the weirdoes on the hill don't leave the shit lying around that the mums who usually congregate there do, so they've time to sneak off.
Kelly and the other two don't mind, they're pissing about listening to Nathan's iPod as he skins up. Simon ponderously selects the tracks, back against the cloud as Kelly and Nathan attempt to make smoke rings and blowback Simon, to his protestations.
Curtis heads off after, to grab her a Coke while she combs out her hair, and there's the girl again, in the bathroom. Like she's been waiting, listening to them.
Alisha's a bit creeped out to be honest, that's Nathan level pervy. She shakes her hands dry and goes to leave, when the girl starts in on some shit about being a slut.
Alisha's still enjoying the afterglow to be honest, she can't be fucked with the screaming pulling-hair bit. She doesn't even mention the shoes, when the girl starts speaking, very slowly.
Alisha's frozen.
All she can hear is a beautiful voice. It sounds like the beat of the club on the best night of your life, the rhythm as you're fucked hard and fast, rocking back and forth, panting, heart racing.
The words don't even register, just the soft sibilant syllables.
'You don't have to be like this. You can be so much better.'
Alisha's wanted a lot of things in her life. A pony. To sit on Channing Tatum’s face (circa She's The Man, if you must know, although if you asked, she’d say Step Up). A sister.
To never ever be scared again. Scared you're not good enough, you're not pretty enough, you're always hungry and your hair's knotty and you pay for everything, one way or another, another blowjob when your head hurts so everyone knows you're cool, another mate you call a slut so they laugh first at her, so 'cockmonster' stays a local legend, so everyone wants to be you.
She's never wanted to be better. Until right now.
Chapter 4
She and Rachel are shopping together, Rachel telling her how beautiful she is, how boys just leer at her, but Rachel can see beyond that.
‘Look at your skin. It’s so perfect. So soft. I bet boys just want to…’ she twists up her lovely mouth in disgust, ‘ruin it. I appreciate you. I’d never ask you to degrade yourself. With Virtue, we can save all the others out there who are being used and exploited like you have been.’
Alisha feels hot shame, remembering the disgusting things she let boys do.
And girls, thinks a small voice, but she tries to ignore that, she’d hate Rachel to guess just how depraved she’s been. It’s understandable to be corrupted by boys, but messing around with girls suggests she’s innately…wrong, somehow. Like she led them astray.
If Rachel guessed, she might not want to try on clothes with her, telling her how flattering her new dresses are.
‘Alisha, you look wonderful. When you conceal the obvious, people can see how perfect your face is. Your hair, your skin. I’m sure boys never noticed your bone structure in those horrible hotpants, but now you look…like a person. Like a nurse, someone important and useful and intelligent.’
Alisha’s thrilled. No one’s ever thought she could be brainy enough for a profession, although she’s been offered gigs nude modelling a few times.
She dropped sixth form halfway through, which was a relief after that messy incident with the guy who caught feelings, and with her record, she’d assumed she’d fucked over her chances.
But if Rachel can believe she can be better, maybe she can.
‘Maybe I can help some of the others at community service?’ she offers, shyly.
Rachel clutches her gloved hands happily, giving Alisha a little shock of joy.
‘What a wonderful idea! They certainly look in need of some direction. That boy you were with…’ she shudders.
Alisha feels embarrassed again, thinking of what she and Curtis were doing, and worse, Rachel hearing it all, her moaning, panting release.
‘He was going to be a runner in the Olympics. Maybe someone like him becoming better would be an inspiration to others’ she suggests.
Rachel favours her with a lovely smile, and squeezes her hand softly. Alisha almost wishes she could take off the gloves, just to feel the contact, but Rachel doesn’t know about her power, and it’s so embarrassing to explain.
‘See how clever you are, Alisha? I’m so glad we can be friends.’
Alisha feels proud. She hasn’t acted like a friend to the others before, but now with Rachel’s help, she can save them.
‘Curtis needs help the most. And he can help us with…persuading the others.’
‘See, boys do have their uses’, Rachel teases gently.
Inspiration strikes Alisha suddenly. ‘Nathan’s staying in the community centre at nights!’
‘The marijuana smoker?’ Even the words sound odd, like Rachel’s lips are too lovely to speak them.
‘Yes! Simon and Kelly like him. If he joins us, they’ll want to know why.’
Rachel hugs her, suddenly. Alisha feels strange. Nervous, almost tingly.
Her old self would have corrupted the feeling, made it about sex; but now she’s changed, she likes to think of it as faith or belief.
Rachel’s told her about Mary Magdalene, about how her past made her most valuable to Jesus, his closest and most beloved companion; and suddenly she feels wickedly glad for all her sins. Without them, she could never have aided Rachel like this.
Chapter 5
Curtis makes her so proud. Every time she seems him, she feels a rush of joy. There’s no time for him to pursue athletics again – with so much sin surrounding them, every hand is needed to make light work, but she likes to think that maybe he’s found his real purpose, and she feels honoured to have been an instrument for him.
Now he’s joined them, she needs to work swiftly with Nathan, though. They’re planning to use the community centre as their base of operations for promotions and admin, things are working much faster than expected since Rachel’s TV interview.
Alisha thought initially that it might be easier to try persuading Simon. She’s not particularly close to Nathan, and he’s more depraved in some ways, more likely to reject the gift they’re offering him. Simon’s looked at her enough times that she thinks he might be persuadable if she offered to meet him, but Rachel vetoes that.
‘You don’t need to be that way anymore, Alisha. Besides, Nathan needs us more than anyone. There’s more rejoicing over one sinner repenting than celebration over ninety-nine righteous souls.’
Alisha doesn’t push the issue, but privately she thinks Nathan Young might be more sinful than even Rachel’s expecting.
It comes as a surprise, therefore, to find Nathan is perhaps their easiest convert.
Rachel says the worst sinners make the strongest zealots, with a special smile aimed at Alisha alone that makes her feel equal parts proud and guilty for the pride.
Alisha likes to think that some part of Nathan was probably always searching for virtue, although maybe that’s overstating the case. He certainly fought wildly enough, but when Kelly came forward, hands spread in welcoming piety, he sagged against his captors and dropped his head, and Alisha knew he was ready.
*
The pride Alisha feels is by now certainly a qualified sin, but she can’t help it, she’s nearly bursting to the brim.
The local bars are empty, the streets have never looked cleaner. There’s talk of politicians visiting, keen to take credit for the crime reduction in Thamesmead.
Curtis and Nathan are angered by their cynical profiteering, but Kelly points out in her much softer way how that just makes them even more in need of Virtue’s message, and how effectively they can deliver it onwards.
Alisha supposed men will always be men, prone to rage, and if Curtis’ impatience and Nathan’s cruel tongue are not yet overcome, they are at least used in service of a higher purpose.
Privately, however, she reflects that nuns, cloistered away in their sisterhood, have something of a draw. Especially when she looks on Rachel’s shining hair, ebony fringe hanging in her sparkling eyes. To see men look upon her, even as an inspirational figure, feels almost blasphemous.
Alisha thinks this wouldn’t bother her so much if Rachel were concealed from view, but while she dresses with perfect feminine modesty, her pink cardigan can’t help but set off her skin, making her skin look flushed and dewy like a rose.
It’s sinful to reflect so, especially when Rachel is the mouthpiece for their cause, but the Bible commanded Christians to think on whatever is pure and lovely, and Rachel is surely that.
She’s considering this when she walks into the storeroom upstairs to fetch more boxes for their ribbons, when she hears a familiar voice:
‘…’s happened to you?’
Simon.
Chapter 6
There’s been discussion – Virtue don’t argue, for the body does not consist of one member but many – over Simon.
Nathan and Kelly argued most strongly for their group to reach out to him. Kelly is always the most merciful, next to Rachel, of course.
Alisha wishes momentarily that she’d been gifted with such a pure power as empathy and the ability to understand your fellow man, but dismisses it with a twinge. If it was meant to be, God would have granted it.
Nathan and Simon were closest, even before they were saved, and their friendship mostly expressed in profanity. Alisha thinks Nathan’s lack of powers probably brought home to him how far he’d strayed from the path, and the modesty inherent in Simon’s invisibility perhaps inspired him to reflect inwards.
However, despite her friends’ faith, Alisha remains a little reluctant. She wants to save as many souls as she can, but when she thinks of Simon, she wonders a little, remembering the missing probation workers. The detective who suddenly lost interest in their disappearances. The credit card in Simon’s pocket.
She knows first hand how loyal Simon is to his friends. He’d make a valuable convert, maybe even the best.
But she wonders if his place within the flock would be better taken when their group is more established, their numbers greater.
She has a feeling Simon Bellamy might be a dangerous opponent.
This feeling is confirmed right now.
Simon’s voice is raised, talking to Nathan, gesturing with something, his back to Alisha.
Alisha wonders about running, fetching Curtis and the others, Rachel ceremonising Simon right now, but she can’t see what he’s holding, and she can’t risk him harming Nathan.
She shudders, remembering Tony. There’s enough blood on her hands.
Instead she presses herself against the wall, trying to breath quietly.
If there’s a chance to surprise Simon, she can take it, but for the moment, he’s in their territory and outnumbered.
She slips off her gloves and shoves them into her skirt waistband, hoping she won’t have to use her power, but if she does, it’s better to do so when Rachel’s not there to witness her shame.
Chapter 7
Summary:
I feel like it would probably be easier to convert every Misfit to radical brainwashed religion, than to get Nathan to remember someone's name with accuracy.
Nathan sounds calm, despite his eyes flicking around the room, nervously.
‘I told you, I didn’t like who I was. Look at my life, I was miserable. I was homeless, for god’s sake. I’d pushed away everyone I loved with my behaviour.
At least now I can be an example to others. Maybe if I’d had a decent father around, or some kind of belief or purpose, I wouldn’t have ended up how I was.’
‘You weren’t a monster. I mean, you were a prick, sometimes,’ Simon falters. ‘Well...a lot of the time. But it’s not like you were actively bad.’
‘I did everything there was to do. Most of it twice. I took drugs, I drank, I smoke. I was an aggressive little shit. I picked on all of you. I had casual sex. With girls…and boys.’
Nathan throws out the last as if as a weapon against Simon’s hesistant argument, voice wavering in disgust at himself.
It appears to hit home. Simon gulps a little, pauses, swallowing dryly.
Alisha’s not unaffected herself, and a lump forms in her throat at the reminders of how far she strayed from Virtue, debased her body, gave up herself unto vile affections.
‘I thought about fucking you… I used to wank off, thinking how embarrassed I was to do it, and it wasn’t even because you were a boy, it was because you were a geek.
I was vain, and shallow. I used to think about being your first, it turned me on to think about you being a virgin, and I’d come all over my stomach and feel cheap afterwards, because I knew how wrong it was.’
He leans in a little, voice softer.
‘But Barry, mate. You’re still pure, you can join us, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I had to change, you don’t need to.’
‘You didn’t either!’ Simon explodes.
‘I… I liked the way you were. It worked for me. I liked how you didn’t care what anybody thought. I liked how you were never embarrassed, how you were never anything except yourself. You made me laugh, even at myself, and you made me angry, and you helped me to be myself, even when I didn’t want to be. I wanted to be your friend as soon as I met you. You were always…you. And now you’re not. I shouldn’t have left you here alone, to them. I’m sorry.’
Simon turns, face in profile, revealing the gun in his left hand.
Alisha’s knees buckle.
Nathan reaches out, grabbing Simon’s sleeve. ‘Don’t do this. Listen to me…we can save you.’
Simon grabs Nathan by the chin. Alisha thinks he’s going to shoot, but instead, even more shockingly, he crashes his mouth against Nathan’s.
Nathan recoils, but before he can speak, Simon’s turning away, running…but instead of downstairs, he appears to be heading upstairs.
Alisha’s confused. The only thing higher than this level is the roof.
She catches Nathan’s eye, and sees him thinking the same thought, as if they have Kelly’s power:
‘Where's Rachel?!’
even as she begins screaming for help.
Chapter 8
Summary:
I like to think Simon's gun was real. Where did he get it, you ask? I think you know: the internet.
Curtis and Kelly are first outside, directing evacuations, calling the emergency services, even trying vainly to throw packing boxes around the roof area, but Alisha knows it’s too late, and she thinks they do, too.
She and Nathan are crouched under the concrete of the skylight.
Simon seems unaware of their presence, raving to Rachel as she cowers.
He’s put headphones in his ears to block her message, so Alisha can hear his every word, even from across the roof.
It’s too late for her and Nathan to escape, Simon has shoved whatever furniture he can reach against the door.
Alisha’s glad, though. She doesn’t want Rachel to be left alone, or for the others to try and tackle Simon.
He may not harm her and Nathan right away, but she can’t be so sure for the rest of the congregation, and that reaction could give them seconds to save Rachel.
She clutches her ribbon with sweaty hands: ‘have-faith, have-faith, have-faith’ she chants under her breath, but it’s difficult.
Simon is waving the gun in Rachel’s face, demanding ‘Take it off! Turn them back!’
Rachel’s crying: ‘I can’t! I don’t know how!’
‘I will shoot you in the head! Take it off!’
Simon’s backing Rachel towards the edge of the roof, and at that Nathan and Alisha run forward instinctively, without discussion.
Nathan stands in between Rachel and Simon, pulling at Simon’s headphones, trying to block him.
Rachel is sobbing now, ‘I just didn’t want to feel like a freak anymore! I’m a nice person, I’ve tried so hard to be good! I can’t stop feeling this way!’
Alisha grabs for her instinctively, the way she used to touch people before her stupid, fucked up power ruined it all, and it’s as if time slows down.
Her hand connects with Rachel’s bare wrist, and Rachel’s eyes widen.
But instead of the profanity and filth usually spilled, she just says softly: ‘Alisha’ as she twists around to look at her, stepping back into nothing.
Nathan, off balance from trying to shield Rachel, falls forwards.
Simon grabs for Nathan desperately, catching his hand briefly, but it’s too late.
There’s a split second where Alisha’s breath catches in her throat, and she thinks maybe they’ll be fine, that if she prays hard enough they’ll land on something soft.
Then she hears the sickening smack from below, and realises nothing will be fine, ever again.
*
Two days later.
She’s a little scared, heading to the graveyard after community service. She doesn’t really know what will happen, probably nothing, a paper airplane with kiddy stencils on it is hardly much to go on, but it’s been weird enough the last few days.
It’s awkward, looking at the others.
Kelly’s makeup back like war paint, but eyeliner smudged around the edges.
Curtis, defensive and angry. She thinks he’s worried what he says about him that he couldn’t reverse time and save them both, that he couldn’t summon the regret. She’s a little worried herself.
Simon, quieter and more intense than ever. She doesn’t think she’s heard more than two words from him outside of the police interviews.
They’re about to leave, convinced the plane thing was a prank, when Kelly swears she hears a familiar voice.
They dig, as quickly as they can, not sure why they’re rushing. If Nathan’s somehow survived six feet underground, she doesn’t know if she wants to find out how. Zombie film images flash in her mind, and it’s almost a relief when they open the box to his quiet face, chest wound thankfully concealed under his familiar jacket.
When he leaps up at them, she feels her heart stop for a second, before it begins again, double-time, and the rushing sound in her ears covers up Nathan’s gleeful stupidity for blissful seconds.
Nathan turns to look at them all, and catches Simon’s eye. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to say something, but instead he pastes on a bright smile.
‘Thank god for Kelly, if it was down to the rest of you useless pricks, I’d still be down there. And let me tell you, my trousers are pretty much ruined now, a few days more and it would have been an environmental catastrophe.’
Alisha rolls her eyes, guessing that answers any lingering fears (hopes?) she had that Rachel’s influence might have lasted.
‘Catch you guys later, I’m off to go tell my mum I’m immortal!’
*
They’re at community service, setting out chairs for the loonies, when Nathan starts in again.
‘I can’t believe that bitch had me in a suit. I think my mum was so happy to see me in it, she overlooked the whole dead thing.’
‘Can you blame her?’ mutters Curtis.
‘Aw, Curtis, don’t feel left out, you looked very fetching in your lilac jumper.’ Nathan puts on a camp voice, although honestly, the effect is a little lost considering how often he ends up squealing in horror or outrage, and how fey his accent is.
‘To be honest, if it wasn’t for my responsibilities to the female of the species and their sexual needs’, he winks at Kelly, who just rolls her eyes, ‘I’d say it was worth getting voodoo brainwashed just to see you lot out of the chav wear. I bet Alisha didn’t know what knickers were the first week.’
‘Fuck off’, Alisha says, but dully. She can’t raise the energy to get into it.
*
The last few days were a nightmare. Curtis and Kelly got to leave the police station after a few hours, but she and Simon were there all night, repeating over and over the same answers. ‘I don’t know.’ ‘They fell.’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘I don’t know.’
Alisha looked around for Detective Pete, but there’s no sign of him. She catches sight of a dark haired woman crying, though, and quickly leans back to ask for water. She doesn’t really want to know if that’s Nathan’s mum or Rachel’s.
*
She should have known disinterest is like a red flag to Nathan.
‘Oooh, stressy! I would have thought a break from the regular chlamydia prescription would have improved your temper.’
Curtis steps forward, jaw tight, but the new probation worker’s looking over at the raised volume. He peers through his window, feet on the desk, enjoying a latte, with a quick ‘shush’ motion, followed by a finger crossing his throat.
‘Don’t be a prick’, Curtis says, quietly, but his tone clearly suggests the word he’d prefer to use.
‘Hey, it’s not my fault, she’s the one who got us into this, all holding gloved hands like with the crazy Christian chick, braiding each other’s hair and doing makeovers and shit.’
He puts a finger to his chin, mock thoughtfully.
‘She didn’t convert you to anything else, did she?’ He does a silly, ‘girly’ voice. ‘Be the Ruth to my Naomi, Alisha, go where I go, let me keep you with me.’ Is that why you never found a cock big enough for that massive fanny, you two found a mutual taste for the clam?’
Curtis looms in Alisha’s vision at that, but Kelly’s quicker. ‘Stop it!’ she says, at a volume, quiet for her, but still louder than the average overhead aircraft, hitting Nathan, hard, across the ear.
Simon remains silent, but he looks stricken. It must be the tension amongst the group, because she can’t imagine that little pervert being offended on her behalf. He’ll probably have a wank over the image later.
She still feels numb, but for some reason, Simon’s non-reaction gets to her even more than Nathan’s stupidity.
‘So she was a repressed psycho. Big deal. Like your boyfriend’s any better.’
That Simon definitely heard, he flinches as if she slapped him.
‘Why don’t you deal with your own shit? You’re one to talk. What was that whole thing back in the circle?’
She can’t normally do impressions as cruelly as Nathan, she doesn’t know if that makes her less witty, or just less of a cunt. But fury is clearly inspirational, as she launches into a perfect Irish accent, hands in a mocking prayer gesture.
‘I think my mum knows I like boys. That’s probably why she wanted me out when she moved in the dog. It’s probably why her old boyfriend tried to touch me, it’s so obvious to everyone how dirty and gay I am. Please help me, fix me, Rachel, I’m sick, and a pervert, and I don’t want to be like this anymore.
I wank off every night on my shitty little mattress, thinking about fucking that little freak Simon, like it’s some sort of big secret, and I slag everyone else off so no one guesses what a massive, self-hating bender I am.’
Alisha’s panting, almost hyperventilating, knees shaking, vision red.
Simon’s eyes are bulging by now, like he’s going to pass out; but Curtis and Kelly are looking away, eyes averted, suddenly reluctant to intervene.
Clearly Alisha and Nathan aren’t the only ones to retain memories of their time with Virtue, the circles and meetings and endless confessions.
Nathan’s eyes are wide, stunned, almost pleading. He looks like he did before he fell off the roof.
He’s therefore easy to move aside as Alisha pushes past him, out of the doors.
*
She expected it to be one of the others who find her first. Curtis or Kelly, even Simon, but she supposes she should have guessed it would be Nathan, when it’s his grave she’s sitting at.
He sits down next to her, silently. Lights a cigarette and passes it over.
She nods in acknowledgement, wiping her eyes.
He lights his own, then starts plucking at the grass randomly, pulling tufts out, wrapping it round his fingers.
‘Got a bit intense back there,’ he ventures after a solid fifteen minutes. Probably a world-record for both of them, to be honest.
‘Yeah.’ Alisha agrees. She doesn’t know what else to say. The only thing that comes to mind is:
‘You know they put you in the arse end of the cemetery?’
‘Oh, thanks. Maybe I should have kept up my youthful career as an altar boy; I might have got a corner with some sun.’
‘She got right next to the gates, shiny photo, teddy bears, the whole bit.’ Alisha gestures, vaguely.
‘Yeah? I haven’t seen it yet. Maybe I’ll give her some of my flowers. Don’t think SON in chrysanthemums quite works, but we could fiddle with it a bit, make…NUN? Could be appropriate.’
‘You know, I touched her. Up on the roof. When you two fell.’
‘And I missed it? If I hadn’t been dead, I think I’d have jumped, the disappointment would have been enough.’
‘It wasn’t really much of a story. Nothing about pissing on my tits or anything.’
Nathan acknowledges that one with a little smirk, but waits, still quiet.
‘…I think she was scared. Even when she touched me, she couldn’t bear to show it, to react. She’d rather fall.
She wanted to believe so badly she could fix herself that she made us all believe it, too. I get that.
I wanted to be normal, too. To get away from this powers shit, to…
She takes a deep breath.
‘To stop trying to make every guy look at me so I could kid myself that I give a shit about any of them.’
Nathan absorbs that one. She guesses how much he probably wants to default, deflect, make a joke, and she’s grateful when after a few seconds, he offers a non-committal: ‘I guess we all got a little bit carried away.’
‘You know he killed that cop, right?’ she asks. ‘I mean, he stopped him coming after us, I can’t say I’m sorry, but…’
She trails off. She knows she probably should have built up to that, that their mutual support group has shaky foundations as it is, without slagging off Nathan’s…well, whatever he is.
But she’s been sitting on her secrets so long, she doesn’t think she can last another minute with one more. And she probably owes Nathan the truth, after that little scene back there.
‘Sure,’ Nathan says, not shortly, but casually, like she’s asking if he wants a stick of chewing gum.
‘Pretty fucked up, huh? I hope it doesn’t make our relationship weird or anything.’
They both giggle at that, at first awkwardly, then with a tinge of hysteria.
‘At least he can’t kill you’, Alisha offers, hiccupping a little.
‘I don’t think any of us can get away with shit now. I thought this superpowers thing was supposed to help us pull off stuff. Now any one of us fucks up, we’ve got him watching, probably filming it for the wank bank’, he smiles affectionately, like it’s a cute hobby on par with her mum putting up with her dad’s weekend fishing; ‘Kelly hearing it, Curtis reliving it, and you with the-‘ he waves his cigarette for emphasis, ‘rape hands.’
Alisha pulls a face at the phrase, and Nathan pulls one back, his apologetic, but neither of them argue the point.
‘And if you mouth off, we can bash your head in guilt-free?’ Alisha suggests, gentle tone not matching the words.
‘I really wish you wouldn’t’, Nathan says, ‘the railing was pretty quick. I was never much of a fighter, I’d rather not find out if Kelly’s head-butts are fatal just yet.’
Alisha snickers quietly.
He continues: ‘Hey, you don’t think her and Curtis? Once she’s over the suicidal depression of me being off the market, I mean?’ he pumps his hips in a pantomime of shagging, awkwardly, as they’re still sprawled on the ground.
‘It’s a cemetery, for fuck’s sake!’ Alisha whispers, flicking grass at his face, before getting up and wiping off her legs.
Nathan stubs out his cigarette on his headstone before shoving himself up, as they head back.
‘And no! I haven’t even spoke to him yet, why don’t you wait a few days before trying to pair everyone off like a sitcom? Jesus, I didn’t think you’d become such a romantic, a taste of cock and you’re practically married!’
‘Aw, don’t be like that. You don’t wanna come out to the bars with me and Barry? Get a cat called Gwendolyn and start a drumming workshop? You’ll have to stop shaving your legs, you know, you’ll never get the butches to notice you all lipsticked up…’
Alisha doesn’t want to encourage him; she can already tell this has the markings of a long-running riff on the most offensive stereotypes possible, but the image of poor Simon in a gay bar… Her lips twitch despite herself.
He’s done bad shit, and maybe he’ll always make her a tiny bit uncomfortable, despite the rush of gratitude she feels towards him, remembering the cold horror of the police station, of wondering if this was it. If they’re finally caught.
But she’s not sure that even manslaughter warrants what Simon has coming.
A relationship with Nathan Young Is pretty much a life sentence, he’s that needy. Maybe even longer than a life sentence, considering Nathan’s power. And he’s found the one person intense enough, insecure enough to welcome that, to tie themselves to a skinny bag of hyperactivity and what she’s pretty convinced is undiagnosed Tourette’s; instead of running for the hills like a sane person.
Fate certainly has a sense of humour, although she doesn’t think it’s a joke Curtis will appreciate, for one.
Maybe it’s wrong, maybe they’re all broken, for caring more about each other than about being good people, and for hurting each other again and again, on purpose and thoughtlessly; but there’s something to be said for at least knowing it, for owning it.
Rachel didn’t get that chance, but she hopes wherever she is, whether there’s something there, like she claimed to believe, or nothing at all; that she’s at peace.
There was a prompt on the old Misfits kink meme asking for a virtue AU in which Nathan got turned (here)
Then I did some overly long meta in which I really wanted to see Alisha slashed (and got super smug when I read the script book after and found out they cut a scene in which Alisha thinks Sally the probation worker's hitting on her.)
So it became an Alisha/Rachel (implied - hdu, Virtue are chaste as the day is long, or something) fic, with some minor Nathan/Simon.
A03 link here.
Chapter 1
So...the power thing works on girls.
She saw a few girls staring at her at the clubs, guessed she must have brushed past them or up against their boyfriends, but she's not bothered about it, to be honest.
When she was at school, all the girls wanted to be her friend anyway, so they could meet the older guys who used to stare at her.
Chloe and Lucy used to compete over who brushed out Alisha's hair, or put on her makeup for her, who got to sleep top-tails with her and who got the twin bed, who sat shotgun in her car.
Chloe's kissed her a few times, mostly when they want to particularly impress the boys, like the drinks are really overpriced or her dad's taken the car away, but then Chloe nearly fucked her brother, so she's not exactly choosy.
The weird parole officer tried giving her her number, telling her how pretty she was, to call any time if she needed to talk.
Alisha doesn't know if it's down to the powers or she's just a lezzy, but she's not willing to take the risk finding out.
She doesn't throw the number away, though. She might not be able to persuade a copper not to press charges, but there's no point in pissing off someone who's in charge of how long she has to spend picking up dogshit and cleaning sewers. Maybe she can at least get off a few days for period pains or something, maybe even some tears over the nasty policeman and his truncheon.
She texts Sally a few times, nothing big - once is to pick her up after she throws up in the cab, another on Simon, of all people's suggestion, telling her about some crazy policeman.
She doesn't know how the little freak even knew Sally had was her number.
He's the one who's been sucking up to her, anyway, he was in her office twice as long as anyone else.
She thought maybe he was just being creepy - he seems like the type who'd get off on having a mummy figure there to spoil him, but he tells her he has an idea he wants to investigate - puts it just like that, as if he's Inspector fucking Morse, probably with a pair of knickers in the briefcase instead of a magnifying glass.
So she does her best sobbing and catapults into Sally's twiggy little arms for their interview, snotting all over her cardigan about this scary cop in the club the other night who got a bit rough checking her ankle bracelet.
In her mind she's picturing the prick who caught her with a wrap a few months back, the one who seems to think he's going to bring down Thamesmead’s answer to Scarface or something, instead of just being a twat with a badge.
She describes him, and Sally takes unexpected interest, asking for details. 'Was he talking to anyone?'
'I dunno', Alisha stalls.
She doesn't know what Simon's up to, but if he won't share his master plan, she's always been good at improvisation.
'He was talking to a big bloke, grey t-shirt. He was in his civvies, so I didn't know til he showed me his badge who he even was!'
She ends the last syllable on a whine for no other reason than drama, this is already getting boring.
Sally's more rapt than ever, though, so Simon should be happy, she's already been in here half an hour. 'Did you get his name?'
'Yeah, Pete Josephs. Detective Pete.'
She's had it for now, a bit fucked off with Sally for so obviously pumping her, forgetting for a moment that her story was fake. So she tells her that Nathan needs to speak to her.
This naturally dominates the rest of the day, leaving her and Curtis an afternoon in the stock cupboard.
It's alright. Curtis checks himself out as much as her, but she gets that. Sometimes she gets off more afterwards, thinking about it, then when it's happening. The more blokes you fuck, the more you realise how few blokes can fuck well.
Now she's not fucking anyone, she doesn't miss the sex as much as she'd thought, but she feels a bit sad sometimes after wanking.
She was always good at it, even taught Chloe where the clit was, but she does miss the non-coming parts of sex - slow tongues sliding against each other. Her arse being grabbed. Sometimes even her neck being kissed, which is so pathetic.
At leaving time, Simon's rematerialised, perched quietly on the locker room bench eating a sandwich, like some sort of gnome. Kelly's still pissed off about Jodie. Nathan's smug, watching Sally's car tear out as if her house is burning down.
'I almost feel sorry for her', mutters Curtis. 'Can you imagine having to help that prick?'
'Hey!' interjects Nathan, who has some kind of attention whore radar behind his stupid hair. 'I just made some serious progress, man, scraping the depths of my soul! This is why she got into this job!'
'You told her you got touched up, didn't you?' Alisha says tiredly.
Nathan rolls his eyes. 'I'm not that predictable.'
Even Simon raises a sceptical eyebrow.
'Okay, fine, but the classics are hard to beat for a reason, she'll be all day on the paperwork alone! That's an official disclosure, it'll cunt up at least the next 48 hours. You're just lucky I didn't tell her about you, Barry, you've definitely victimised my poor anus.'
Curtis looks horrified, but Simon seems less moody than a few weeks ago. He gives a fairly good attempt at a sneer, but doesn't allow Nathan to start showing off like usual, clearly intent on telling them something.
'We need to be careful what we say to Sally. I went to her house today.'
'Alright, weird kid!' Nathan cheers. 'Did you sniff her knickers? That's like, half way to popping your cherry, now you've just gotta do it when she's in them!'
'Shut up, alright? Fook!' explodes Kelly. 'I just failed my restorative justice thing, they could give me another six weeks here! This is serious, if she knows about Tony, we could be fooked! The flyover's only been up a week, they could still be looking for him!'
'He was dating Sally. Tony, I mean. They were together. At her house I found photos of them. That's why she's been hanging around here, trying to get us to trust her. She knows we had something to do with it.'
Shy Simon finally has all the attention in the room.
'Someone was instant messaging me on my computer. It started after we...after Tony. She's got Alisha's number. All our addresses. And she's friends with a policeman. He'd left a message on her machine.'
Everyone suddenly explodes into chatter. 'She's got your number?' asks Curtis.
Alisha questions his priorities, a little, personally. He’d alright in the nick, people know his name, but there's no way she's being some bull dyke's lipstick lover, which is a lot more pressing than who's got her number, which, by the way, is hardly a state secret.
'She wanted to talk to me, if she thinks I'm her little friend like him, she could let me out early or something!'
'What did you tell her, Alisha?' Simon asks in his serious way, intensely eyeballing her like some kind of tropical fish.
'Nothing! I just said I saw that twat, Detective Josephs, talking to someone at the club.'
'Someone who? A man or a woman?'
'A man! Just a bloke, I kept thinking about that twat', she nods her head in Nathan's direction, 'saying Tony ran off with Gary.'
'Maybe the cop's banging Tony!' Nathan suggests excitedly. 'Love across the divide, behind everyone's backs!'
'Tony's the dead one, you fucktard! And I didn't tell her they were fucking, I just said Pete was talking to a bloke who looked like Tony.'
Simon looks thoughtful.
Chapter 2
Summary:
Poor Kelly. I can't write for her, probably because I get all JK Rowling about spelling out her every word phonetically.
Whatever did happen to ole Pete? Think the last we see of him is 2x1 with Lucy!Simon. Anyway, let's pretend your faves added him to their murder spree. Sorry, Pete.
Two weeks later.
Sally hasn't come back to work.
Alisha’s a little bit scared, although she wouldn't admit it.
There's no way Nathan could stay quiet if he'd done something; and Kelly's weapon of choice is the headbutt, which while painful (as Alisha's learned from personal experience) is probably not fatal, even on a twig like Sally. Curtis would have told her.
That just leaves Simon, and while she's warming to him, if for nothing else than the silent worship he bestows upon them all (even Curtis, who thinks he's too cool, is not entirely immune to blatant adoration and endless attention. Nathan is naturally in heaven.), she's aware that he's...a little off, to put it mildly.
Halfway through that week, they're taking a break, crammed onto a crappy picnic table trying to block the winds from battering their stupid suits. Even Curtis has zipped his up for once, and Alisha's cold enough that she's actually pulled her jacket over her head. She hasn't purposefully let her hair get fucked since she was 13. Not even when she's getting fucked.
Nathan's trying to shove his feet on Curtis' lap, his head on Kelly's shoulder, and his hands in Simon's pockets, insisting that Irish people are genetically predisposed to pneumonia and that as the only one without powers, they have a sacred duty to protect him for the rest of their lives. Only Simon's daft enough to fall for it, which is when Nathan pulls out a credit card from his pocket.
'Barry, are you just pleased to see me or is this a down payment? I've told you, my love is not for sale!'
'What the fook?'
Kelly's either read Simon's mind, or she can read upside down. Alisha doesn't want to be mean, especially because of the headbutting, but she's betting on the former.
'It's Tony's!'
'It's...it's not like it looks', Simon struggles. 'I took it from her office. I thought if they traced it and saw it'd been used after he disappeared, the police would stop looking.'
'You've had a credit card all this time, and I'm still living out of a vending machine? Fuck that!' exclaims Nathan, grabbing for it.
'It can't be used, they could trace it back to us. I bought a flight, that way they'll think he left Sally.'
Alisha really, really doesn't want to ask. But if she doesn't, she doesn't know what's worse - if someone else does. Or nobody does.
'Where is Sally?'
Simon looks a little stung. 'I don't know.'
'I didn't mean - '
'Maybe she went looking for him.'
'Sure.'
'Maybe the detective went with her.' Simon catches Alisha's eye. For just a second, but she shivers, and not because it's cold.
She's always got Nathan, she doesn't have to like him, and to be honest, mostly she doesn't, but gets him.
They compete sometimes, like siblings. She blows a bottle, he deep throats an ice cream. She gets her tits out, he does a roof striptease.
Sometimes it's fun, the two of them dossing around, dancing, dressing up, all eyes on them. He usually wins because he has lower standards - he doesn't care whether the attention’s good or bad, whether people are sneering or leering. Alisha doesn't like to be laughed at.
She never thought she'd have anything in common with Simon, though, and she's not even sure if she does, but she recognises the look in his eyes when he spoke to her just now, and something in the tone.
Alisha's used to getting away with stuff. She's never had to make much effort, sometimes excuses just bubble over: 'Sorry I missed the exam, my nan’s got cancer.'
'He kissed me, I didn't know he was your boyfriend!'
'Of course I paid for that, look at me, I don't need to steal your shitty lipstick!'
Some people respond to tears, some to pleas, some to a flirty smile and a throaty giggle, but almost everyone gives in the end. Curtis pushes her sometimes on stuff, but even he's pretty soft underneath.
Simon Bellamy is a terrible liar, and hasn't the charm to get away with shit; but on his face is Alisha sees that same look she's recognised in the mirror. The one that will lie to anyone, even the reflection, to do what you need to.
Alisha's pretty peaceful, and she doesn't plan to hurt anyone unless they're coming for her. She hopes she and Simon agree on that.
Chapter 3
So...there's this girl.
A friend of the weirdoes on the hill, of that slapper Abby, who had sex with a gearstick.
She dresses like a nun. Nathan's particularly offended by the cardigan, whereas for Alisha's it's the sad grey heels.
Alisha's legs have never been her strongest point, they're toned and golden, of course, but she's short and therefore they look stumpy if she wears a hem below arselength.
Thankfully, she never does.
But this girl has perfect legs, the legs Alisha would kill for (well, maybe maim), and she's wearing this grey things that even her mum would reject. What a waste.
The girl approaches her a couple of times, and she's on the point of giving her some friendly advice ('your shoes are fucking rank' seems like a good beginning), but she swerves away at the last minute.
Maybe it's Nathan giving a rim job to his litter catcher.
She and Curtis make time for a quickie, today's been slow - the weirdoes on the hill don't leave the shit lying around that the mums who usually congregate there do, so they've time to sneak off.
Kelly and the other two don't mind, they're pissing about listening to Nathan's iPod as he skins up. Simon ponderously selects the tracks, back against the cloud as Kelly and Nathan attempt to make smoke rings and blowback Simon, to his protestations.
Curtis heads off after, to grab her a Coke while she combs out her hair, and there's the girl again, in the bathroom. Like she's been waiting, listening to them.
Alisha's a bit creeped out to be honest, that's Nathan level pervy. She shakes her hands dry and goes to leave, when the girl starts in on some shit about being a slut.
Alisha's still enjoying the afterglow to be honest, she can't be fucked with the screaming pulling-hair bit. She doesn't even mention the shoes, when the girl starts speaking, very slowly.
Alisha's frozen.
All she can hear is a beautiful voice. It sounds like the beat of the club on the best night of your life, the rhythm as you're fucked hard and fast, rocking back and forth, panting, heart racing.
The words don't even register, just the soft sibilant syllables.
'You don't have to be like this. You can be so much better.'
Alisha's wanted a lot of things in her life. A pony. To sit on Channing Tatum’s face (circa She's The Man, if you must know, although if you asked, she’d say Step Up). A sister.
To never ever be scared again. Scared you're not good enough, you're not pretty enough, you're always hungry and your hair's knotty and you pay for everything, one way or another, another blowjob when your head hurts so everyone knows you're cool, another mate you call a slut so they laugh first at her, so 'cockmonster' stays a local legend, so everyone wants to be you.
She's never wanted to be better. Until right now.
Chapter 4
She and Rachel are shopping together, Rachel telling her how beautiful she is, how boys just leer at her, but Rachel can see beyond that.
‘Look at your skin. It’s so perfect. So soft. I bet boys just want to…’ she twists up her lovely mouth in disgust, ‘ruin it. I appreciate you. I’d never ask you to degrade yourself. With Virtue, we can save all the others out there who are being used and exploited like you have been.’
Alisha feels hot shame, remembering the disgusting things she let boys do.
And girls, thinks a small voice, but she tries to ignore that, she’d hate Rachel to guess just how depraved she’s been. It’s understandable to be corrupted by boys, but messing around with girls suggests she’s innately…wrong, somehow. Like she led them astray.
If Rachel guessed, she might not want to try on clothes with her, telling her how flattering her new dresses are.
‘Alisha, you look wonderful. When you conceal the obvious, people can see how perfect your face is. Your hair, your skin. I’m sure boys never noticed your bone structure in those horrible hotpants, but now you look…like a person. Like a nurse, someone important and useful and intelligent.’
Alisha’s thrilled. No one’s ever thought she could be brainy enough for a profession, although she’s been offered gigs nude modelling a few times.
She dropped sixth form halfway through, which was a relief after that messy incident with the guy who caught feelings, and with her record, she’d assumed she’d fucked over her chances.
But if Rachel can believe she can be better, maybe she can.
‘Maybe I can help some of the others at community service?’ she offers, shyly.
Rachel clutches her gloved hands happily, giving Alisha a little shock of joy.
‘What a wonderful idea! They certainly look in need of some direction. That boy you were with…’ she shudders.
Alisha feels embarrassed again, thinking of what she and Curtis were doing, and worse, Rachel hearing it all, her moaning, panting release.
‘He was going to be a runner in the Olympics. Maybe someone like him becoming better would be an inspiration to others’ she suggests.
Rachel favours her with a lovely smile, and squeezes her hand softly. Alisha almost wishes she could take off the gloves, just to feel the contact, but Rachel doesn’t know about her power, and it’s so embarrassing to explain.
‘See how clever you are, Alisha? I’m so glad we can be friends.’
Alisha feels proud. She hasn’t acted like a friend to the others before, but now with Rachel’s help, she can save them.
‘Curtis needs help the most. And he can help us with…persuading the others.’
‘See, boys do have their uses’, Rachel teases gently.
Inspiration strikes Alisha suddenly. ‘Nathan’s staying in the community centre at nights!’
‘The marijuana smoker?’ Even the words sound odd, like Rachel’s lips are too lovely to speak them.
‘Yes! Simon and Kelly like him. If he joins us, they’ll want to know why.’
Rachel hugs her, suddenly. Alisha feels strange. Nervous, almost tingly.
Her old self would have corrupted the feeling, made it about sex; but now she’s changed, she likes to think of it as faith or belief.
Rachel’s told her about Mary Magdalene, about how her past made her most valuable to Jesus, his closest and most beloved companion; and suddenly she feels wickedly glad for all her sins. Without them, she could never have aided Rachel like this.
Chapter 5
Curtis makes her so proud. Every time she seems him, she feels a rush of joy. There’s no time for him to pursue athletics again – with so much sin surrounding them, every hand is needed to make light work, but she likes to think that maybe he’s found his real purpose, and she feels honoured to have been an instrument for him.
Now he’s joined them, she needs to work swiftly with Nathan, though. They’re planning to use the community centre as their base of operations for promotions and admin, things are working much faster than expected since Rachel’s TV interview.
Alisha thought initially that it might be easier to try persuading Simon. She’s not particularly close to Nathan, and he’s more depraved in some ways, more likely to reject the gift they’re offering him. Simon’s looked at her enough times that she thinks he might be persuadable if she offered to meet him, but Rachel vetoes that.
‘You don’t need to be that way anymore, Alisha. Besides, Nathan needs us more than anyone. There’s more rejoicing over one sinner repenting than celebration over ninety-nine righteous souls.’
Alisha doesn’t push the issue, but privately she thinks Nathan Young might be more sinful than even Rachel’s expecting.
It comes as a surprise, therefore, to find Nathan is perhaps their easiest convert.
Rachel says the worst sinners make the strongest zealots, with a special smile aimed at Alisha alone that makes her feel equal parts proud and guilty for the pride.
Alisha likes to think that some part of Nathan was probably always searching for virtue, although maybe that’s overstating the case. He certainly fought wildly enough, but when Kelly came forward, hands spread in welcoming piety, he sagged against his captors and dropped his head, and Alisha knew he was ready.
*
The pride Alisha feels is by now certainly a qualified sin, but she can’t help it, she’s nearly bursting to the brim.
The local bars are empty, the streets have never looked cleaner. There’s talk of politicians visiting, keen to take credit for the crime reduction in Thamesmead.
Curtis and Nathan are angered by their cynical profiteering, but Kelly points out in her much softer way how that just makes them even more in need of Virtue’s message, and how effectively they can deliver it onwards.
Alisha supposed men will always be men, prone to rage, and if Curtis’ impatience and Nathan’s cruel tongue are not yet overcome, they are at least used in service of a higher purpose.
Privately, however, she reflects that nuns, cloistered away in their sisterhood, have something of a draw. Especially when she looks on Rachel’s shining hair, ebony fringe hanging in her sparkling eyes. To see men look upon her, even as an inspirational figure, feels almost blasphemous.
Alisha thinks this wouldn’t bother her so much if Rachel were concealed from view, but while she dresses with perfect feminine modesty, her pink cardigan can’t help but set off her skin, making her skin look flushed and dewy like a rose.
It’s sinful to reflect so, especially when Rachel is the mouthpiece for their cause, but the Bible commanded Christians to think on whatever is pure and lovely, and Rachel is surely that.
She’s considering this when she walks into the storeroom upstairs to fetch more boxes for their ribbons, when she hears a familiar voice:
‘…’s happened to you?’
Simon.
Chapter 6
There’s been discussion – Virtue don’t argue, for the body does not consist of one member but many – over Simon.
Nathan and Kelly argued most strongly for their group to reach out to him. Kelly is always the most merciful, next to Rachel, of course.
Alisha wishes momentarily that she’d been gifted with such a pure power as empathy and the ability to understand your fellow man, but dismisses it with a twinge. If it was meant to be, God would have granted it.
Nathan and Simon were closest, even before they were saved, and their friendship mostly expressed in profanity. Alisha thinks Nathan’s lack of powers probably brought home to him how far he’d strayed from the path, and the modesty inherent in Simon’s invisibility perhaps inspired him to reflect inwards.
However, despite her friends’ faith, Alisha remains a little reluctant. She wants to save as many souls as she can, but when she thinks of Simon, she wonders a little, remembering the missing probation workers. The detective who suddenly lost interest in their disappearances. The credit card in Simon’s pocket.
She knows first hand how loyal Simon is to his friends. He’d make a valuable convert, maybe even the best.
But she wonders if his place within the flock would be better taken when their group is more established, their numbers greater.
She has a feeling Simon Bellamy might be a dangerous opponent.
This feeling is confirmed right now.
Simon’s voice is raised, talking to Nathan, gesturing with something, his back to Alisha.
Alisha wonders about running, fetching Curtis and the others, Rachel ceremonising Simon right now, but she can’t see what he’s holding, and she can’t risk him harming Nathan.
She shudders, remembering Tony. There’s enough blood on her hands.
Instead she presses herself against the wall, trying to breath quietly.
If there’s a chance to surprise Simon, she can take it, but for the moment, he’s in their territory and outnumbered.
She slips off her gloves and shoves them into her skirt waistband, hoping she won’t have to use her power, but if she does, it’s better to do so when Rachel’s not there to witness her shame.
Chapter 7
Summary:
I feel like it would probably be easier to convert every Misfit to radical brainwashed religion, than to get Nathan to remember someone's name with accuracy.
Nathan sounds calm, despite his eyes flicking around the room, nervously.
‘I told you, I didn’t like who I was. Look at my life, I was miserable. I was homeless, for god’s sake. I’d pushed away everyone I loved with my behaviour.
At least now I can be an example to others. Maybe if I’d had a decent father around, or some kind of belief or purpose, I wouldn’t have ended up how I was.’
‘You weren’t a monster. I mean, you were a prick, sometimes,’ Simon falters. ‘Well...a lot of the time. But it’s not like you were actively bad.’
‘I did everything there was to do. Most of it twice. I took drugs, I drank, I smoke. I was an aggressive little shit. I picked on all of you. I had casual sex. With girls…and boys.’
Nathan throws out the last as if as a weapon against Simon’s hesistant argument, voice wavering in disgust at himself.
It appears to hit home. Simon gulps a little, pauses, swallowing dryly.
Alisha’s not unaffected herself, and a lump forms in her throat at the reminders of how far she strayed from Virtue, debased her body, gave up herself unto vile affections.
‘I thought about fucking you… I used to wank off, thinking how embarrassed I was to do it, and it wasn’t even because you were a boy, it was because you were a geek.
I was vain, and shallow. I used to think about being your first, it turned me on to think about you being a virgin, and I’d come all over my stomach and feel cheap afterwards, because I knew how wrong it was.’
He leans in a little, voice softer.
‘But Barry, mate. You’re still pure, you can join us, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I had to change, you don’t need to.’
‘You didn’t either!’ Simon explodes.
‘I… I liked the way you were. It worked for me. I liked how you didn’t care what anybody thought. I liked how you were never embarrassed, how you were never anything except yourself. You made me laugh, even at myself, and you made me angry, and you helped me to be myself, even when I didn’t want to be. I wanted to be your friend as soon as I met you. You were always…you. And now you’re not. I shouldn’t have left you here alone, to them. I’m sorry.’
Simon turns, face in profile, revealing the gun in his left hand.
Alisha’s knees buckle.
Nathan reaches out, grabbing Simon’s sleeve. ‘Don’t do this. Listen to me…we can save you.’
Simon grabs Nathan by the chin. Alisha thinks he’s going to shoot, but instead, even more shockingly, he crashes his mouth against Nathan’s.
Nathan recoils, but before he can speak, Simon’s turning away, running…but instead of downstairs, he appears to be heading upstairs.
Alisha’s confused. The only thing higher than this level is the roof.
She catches Nathan’s eye, and sees him thinking the same thought, as if they have Kelly’s power:
‘Where's Rachel?!’
even as she begins screaming for help.
Chapter 8
Summary:
I like to think Simon's gun was real. Where did he get it, you ask? I think you know: the internet.
Curtis and Kelly are first outside, directing evacuations, calling the emergency services, even trying vainly to throw packing boxes around the roof area, but Alisha knows it’s too late, and she thinks they do, too.
She and Nathan are crouched under the concrete of the skylight.
Simon seems unaware of their presence, raving to Rachel as she cowers.
He’s put headphones in his ears to block her message, so Alisha can hear his every word, even from across the roof.
It’s too late for her and Nathan to escape, Simon has shoved whatever furniture he can reach against the door.
Alisha’s glad, though. She doesn’t want Rachel to be left alone, or for the others to try and tackle Simon.
He may not harm her and Nathan right away, but she can’t be so sure for the rest of the congregation, and that reaction could give them seconds to save Rachel.
She clutches her ribbon with sweaty hands: ‘have-faith, have-faith, have-faith’ she chants under her breath, but it’s difficult.
Simon is waving the gun in Rachel’s face, demanding ‘Take it off! Turn them back!’
Rachel’s crying: ‘I can’t! I don’t know how!’
‘I will shoot you in the head! Take it off!’
Simon’s backing Rachel towards the edge of the roof, and at that Nathan and Alisha run forward instinctively, without discussion.
Nathan stands in between Rachel and Simon, pulling at Simon’s headphones, trying to block him.
Rachel is sobbing now, ‘I just didn’t want to feel like a freak anymore! I’m a nice person, I’ve tried so hard to be good! I can’t stop feeling this way!’
Alisha grabs for her instinctively, the way she used to touch people before her stupid, fucked up power ruined it all, and it’s as if time slows down.
Her hand connects with Rachel’s bare wrist, and Rachel’s eyes widen.
But instead of the profanity and filth usually spilled, she just says softly: ‘Alisha’ as she twists around to look at her, stepping back into nothing.
Nathan, off balance from trying to shield Rachel, falls forwards.
Simon grabs for Nathan desperately, catching his hand briefly, but it’s too late.
There’s a split second where Alisha’s breath catches in her throat, and she thinks maybe they’ll be fine, that if she prays hard enough they’ll land on something soft.
Then she hears the sickening smack from below, and realises nothing will be fine, ever again.
*
Two days later.
She’s a little scared, heading to the graveyard after community service. She doesn’t really know what will happen, probably nothing, a paper airplane with kiddy stencils on it is hardly much to go on, but it’s been weird enough the last few days.
It’s awkward, looking at the others.
Kelly’s makeup back like war paint, but eyeliner smudged around the edges.
Curtis, defensive and angry. She thinks he’s worried what he says about him that he couldn’t reverse time and save them both, that he couldn’t summon the regret. She’s a little worried herself.
Simon, quieter and more intense than ever. She doesn’t think she’s heard more than two words from him outside of the police interviews.
They’re about to leave, convinced the plane thing was a prank, when Kelly swears she hears a familiar voice.
They dig, as quickly as they can, not sure why they’re rushing. If Nathan’s somehow survived six feet underground, she doesn’t know if she wants to find out how. Zombie film images flash in her mind, and it’s almost a relief when they open the box to his quiet face, chest wound thankfully concealed under his familiar jacket.
When he leaps up at them, she feels her heart stop for a second, before it begins again, double-time, and the rushing sound in her ears covers up Nathan’s gleeful stupidity for blissful seconds.
Nathan turns to look at them all, and catches Simon’s eye. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to say something, but instead he pastes on a bright smile.
‘Thank god for Kelly, if it was down to the rest of you useless pricks, I’d still be down there. And let me tell you, my trousers are pretty much ruined now, a few days more and it would have been an environmental catastrophe.’
Alisha rolls her eyes, guessing that answers any lingering fears (hopes?) she had that Rachel’s influence might have lasted.
‘Catch you guys later, I’m off to go tell my mum I’m immortal!’
*
They’re at community service, setting out chairs for the loonies, when Nathan starts in again.
‘I can’t believe that bitch had me in a suit. I think my mum was so happy to see me in it, she overlooked the whole dead thing.’
‘Can you blame her?’ mutters Curtis.
‘Aw, Curtis, don’t feel left out, you looked very fetching in your lilac jumper.’ Nathan puts on a camp voice, although honestly, the effect is a little lost considering how often he ends up squealing in horror or outrage, and how fey his accent is.
‘To be honest, if it wasn’t for my responsibilities to the female of the species and their sexual needs’, he winks at Kelly, who just rolls her eyes, ‘I’d say it was worth getting voodoo brainwashed just to see you lot out of the chav wear. I bet Alisha didn’t know what knickers were the first week.’
‘Fuck off’, Alisha says, but dully. She can’t raise the energy to get into it.
*
The last few days were a nightmare. Curtis and Kelly got to leave the police station after a few hours, but she and Simon were there all night, repeating over and over the same answers. ‘I don’t know.’ ‘They fell.’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘I don’t know.’
Alisha looked around for Detective Pete, but there’s no sign of him. She catches sight of a dark haired woman crying, though, and quickly leans back to ask for water. She doesn’t really want to know if that’s Nathan’s mum or Rachel’s.
*
She should have known disinterest is like a red flag to Nathan.
‘Oooh, stressy! I would have thought a break from the regular chlamydia prescription would have improved your temper.’
Curtis steps forward, jaw tight, but the new probation worker’s looking over at the raised volume. He peers through his window, feet on the desk, enjoying a latte, with a quick ‘shush’ motion, followed by a finger crossing his throat.
‘Don’t be a prick’, Curtis says, quietly, but his tone clearly suggests the word he’d prefer to use.
‘Hey, it’s not my fault, she’s the one who got us into this, all holding gloved hands like with the crazy Christian chick, braiding each other’s hair and doing makeovers and shit.’
He puts a finger to his chin, mock thoughtfully.
‘She didn’t convert you to anything else, did she?’ He does a silly, ‘girly’ voice. ‘Be the Ruth to my Naomi, Alisha, go where I go, let me keep you with me.’ Is that why you never found a cock big enough for that massive fanny, you two found a mutual taste for the clam?’
Curtis looms in Alisha’s vision at that, but Kelly’s quicker. ‘Stop it!’ she says, at a volume, quiet for her, but still louder than the average overhead aircraft, hitting Nathan, hard, across the ear.
Simon remains silent, but he looks stricken. It must be the tension amongst the group, because she can’t imagine that little pervert being offended on her behalf. He’ll probably have a wank over the image later.
She still feels numb, but for some reason, Simon’s non-reaction gets to her even more than Nathan’s stupidity.
‘So she was a repressed psycho. Big deal. Like your boyfriend’s any better.’
That Simon definitely heard, he flinches as if she slapped him.
‘Why don’t you deal with your own shit? You’re one to talk. What was that whole thing back in the circle?’
She can’t normally do impressions as cruelly as Nathan, she doesn’t know if that makes her less witty, or just less of a cunt. But fury is clearly inspirational, as she launches into a perfect Irish accent, hands in a mocking prayer gesture.
‘I think my mum knows I like boys. That’s probably why she wanted me out when she moved in the dog. It’s probably why her old boyfriend tried to touch me, it’s so obvious to everyone how dirty and gay I am. Please help me, fix me, Rachel, I’m sick, and a pervert, and I don’t want to be like this anymore.
I wank off every night on my shitty little mattress, thinking about fucking that little freak Simon, like it’s some sort of big secret, and I slag everyone else off so no one guesses what a massive, self-hating bender I am.’
Alisha’s panting, almost hyperventilating, knees shaking, vision red.
Simon’s eyes are bulging by now, like he’s going to pass out; but Curtis and Kelly are looking away, eyes averted, suddenly reluctant to intervene.
Clearly Alisha and Nathan aren’t the only ones to retain memories of their time with Virtue, the circles and meetings and endless confessions.
Nathan’s eyes are wide, stunned, almost pleading. He looks like he did before he fell off the roof.
He’s therefore easy to move aside as Alisha pushes past him, out of the doors.
*
She expected it to be one of the others who find her first. Curtis or Kelly, even Simon, but she supposes she should have guessed it would be Nathan, when it’s his grave she’s sitting at.
He sits down next to her, silently. Lights a cigarette and passes it over.
She nods in acknowledgement, wiping her eyes.
He lights his own, then starts plucking at the grass randomly, pulling tufts out, wrapping it round his fingers.
‘Got a bit intense back there,’ he ventures after a solid fifteen minutes. Probably a world-record for both of them, to be honest.
‘Yeah.’ Alisha agrees. She doesn’t know what else to say. The only thing that comes to mind is:
‘You know they put you in the arse end of the cemetery?’
‘Oh, thanks. Maybe I should have kept up my youthful career as an altar boy; I might have got a corner with some sun.’
‘She got right next to the gates, shiny photo, teddy bears, the whole bit.’ Alisha gestures, vaguely.
‘Yeah? I haven’t seen it yet. Maybe I’ll give her some of my flowers. Don’t think SON in chrysanthemums quite works, but we could fiddle with it a bit, make…NUN? Could be appropriate.’
‘You know, I touched her. Up on the roof. When you two fell.’
‘And I missed it? If I hadn’t been dead, I think I’d have jumped, the disappointment would have been enough.’
‘It wasn’t really much of a story. Nothing about pissing on my tits or anything.’
Nathan acknowledges that one with a little smirk, but waits, still quiet.
‘…I think she was scared. Even when she touched me, she couldn’t bear to show it, to react. She’d rather fall.
She wanted to believe so badly she could fix herself that she made us all believe it, too. I get that.
I wanted to be normal, too. To get away from this powers shit, to…
She takes a deep breath.
‘To stop trying to make every guy look at me so I could kid myself that I give a shit about any of them.’
Nathan absorbs that one. She guesses how much he probably wants to default, deflect, make a joke, and she’s grateful when after a few seconds, he offers a non-committal: ‘I guess we all got a little bit carried away.’
‘You know he killed that cop, right?’ she asks. ‘I mean, he stopped him coming after us, I can’t say I’m sorry, but…’
She trails off. She knows she probably should have built up to that, that their mutual support group has shaky foundations as it is, without slagging off Nathan’s…well, whatever he is.
But she’s been sitting on her secrets so long, she doesn’t think she can last another minute with one more. And she probably owes Nathan the truth, after that little scene back there.
‘Sure,’ Nathan says, not shortly, but casually, like she’s asking if he wants a stick of chewing gum.
‘Pretty fucked up, huh? I hope it doesn’t make our relationship weird or anything.’
They both giggle at that, at first awkwardly, then with a tinge of hysteria.
‘At least he can’t kill you’, Alisha offers, hiccupping a little.
‘I don’t think any of us can get away with shit now. I thought this superpowers thing was supposed to help us pull off stuff. Now any one of us fucks up, we’ve got him watching, probably filming it for the wank bank’, he smiles affectionately, like it’s a cute hobby on par with her mum putting up with her dad’s weekend fishing; ‘Kelly hearing it, Curtis reliving it, and you with the-‘ he waves his cigarette for emphasis, ‘rape hands.’
Alisha pulls a face at the phrase, and Nathan pulls one back, his apologetic, but neither of them argue the point.
‘And if you mouth off, we can bash your head in guilt-free?’ Alisha suggests, gentle tone not matching the words.
‘I really wish you wouldn’t’, Nathan says, ‘the railing was pretty quick. I was never much of a fighter, I’d rather not find out if Kelly’s head-butts are fatal just yet.’
Alisha snickers quietly.
He continues: ‘Hey, you don’t think her and Curtis? Once she’s over the suicidal depression of me being off the market, I mean?’ he pumps his hips in a pantomime of shagging, awkwardly, as they’re still sprawled on the ground.
‘It’s a cemetery, for fuck’s sake!’ Alisha whispers, flicking grass at his face, before getting up and wiping off her legs.
Nathan stubs out his cigarette on his headstone before shoving himself up, as they head back.
‘And no! I haven’t even spoke to him yet, why don’t you wait a few days before trying to pair everyone off like a sitcom? Jesus, I didn’t think you’d become such a romantic, a taste of cock and you’re practically married!’
‘Aw, don’t be like that. You don’t wanna come out to the bars with me and Barry? Get a cat called Gwendolyn and start a drumming workshop? You’ll have to stop shaving your legs, you know, you’ll never get the butches to notice you all lipsticked up…’
Alisha doesn’t want to encourage him; she can already tell this has the markings of a long-running riff on the most offensive stereotypes possible, but the image of poor Simon in a gay bar… Her lips twitch despite herself.
He’s done bad shit, and maybe he’ll always make her a tiny bit uncomfortable, despite the rush of gratitude she feels towards him, remembering the cold horror of the police station, of wondering if this was it. If they’re finally caught.
But she’s not sure that even manslaughter warrants what Simon has coming.
A relationship with Nathan Young Is pretty much a life sentence, he’s that needy. Maybe even longer than a life sentence, considering Nathan’s power. And he’s found the one person intense enough, insecure enough to welcome that, to tie themselves to a skinny bag of hyperactivity and what she’s pretty convinced is undiagnosed Tourette’s; instead of running for the hills like a sane person.
Fate certainly has a sense of humour, although she doesn’t think it’s a joke Curtis will appreciate, for one.
Maybe it’s wrong, maybe they’re all broken, for caring more about each other than about being good people, and for hurting each other again and again, on purpose and thoughtlessly; but there’s something to be said for at least knowing it, for owning it.
Rachel didn’t get that chance, but she hopes wherever she is, whether there’s something there, like she claimed to believe, or nothing at all; that she’s at peace.
