Draven didn’t seem to notice her troubled expression. He just went on sharpening, losing himself in the melodious noise of the sound of metal of stone.
Operation Tilt // one on one // closed
Somehow, despite her volume being all the way up, the sound still reached Canary's ears. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it out. Of course he'd managed to find one of her triggers within the first fifteen minutes of the car ride. Of course.
Draven stopped, pulling the blade down his thumb. It sliced cleanly through his skin, like a hot knife through butter, and he smirked with satisfaction before putting the stone away and turning to her. “Something wrong, Vasquez?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"N-no." Canary grit out, not opening her eyes. The stutter was something that she hated, which was why she made sure to keep it under wraps at all times. Though the way her fingernails were digging into her palm hard enough to draw blood made it hard to focus on that. No. Panic. Attacks. Not with him around.
“Ya sure, sweetheart?” He drawled, leaning back, watching her with sharp eyes. “Cause it doesn’t look like nothing.”
She shook her head, slipping into rapid paced Spanish, blended with at least three other languages. Her nails moved from her palms to her arms, pushing up the sleeves of her jacket and revealing half moon scars, that she was apparently adding to.
Draven simply smirked. He pulled his knife from his pocket and the stone as well, sharpening it once.
"Do that one more time, and I'll shoot you." Canary managed to grit out, flinching visibly at the sound.
“I’m just sharpening my knife,” he said with a shark-like smile. “Nothing more. Just innocent sharpening.
In a split second, Canary had a handgun that she definitely wasn't supposed to have pressed to his temple, her eyes finally opened. She had never shown fear at the academy, was known for not caring about anything, but the pure panic and haunted look in her eyes was undeniable. "I'm not fucking kidding."
Draven was hocked at the expression on her face. It was so… vulnerable. But he hid it well. “Or you’ll shoot me? Honestly, Vasquez, do you really think that the headmaster would like that you killed one of his Star students?”
The distraction had worked, and with a simple but efficient sleight of hand, Canary had taken the wetstone right from his hand and tucked it away. He didn't need to know that though. "Stop calling me that."
Draven raised an eyebrow. “Or what? Would you prefer Bird Brain?”
"As long as it's not fuckin' that." Canary spat, pain and fear flashing through her eyes.
“Nah, I think I like Vasquez better.” Smirking, Draven leaned back in his seat, calmly pushing the gun away. He didn’t seem to notice that his whetstone was gone.
The sound of the gun going off, muffled by a silencer, echoed through the car as it pulled to a stop on the side of the highway. Canary had shifted the aim of the gun, hitting him in the leg, and was now halfway out the car door and visibly in the throes of a panic attack.
Draven jerked as a wave of pain hit his leg. She had shot him. Him. Draven. She had shot him. He glared at her so hard he was surprised that flames didn’t come out of his eyes. Anger pounded through him, making him see red.
The driver of the car, an agent by the name of Faithen, was already at Draven's door, pulling it open to hurriedly check him. The man had no way of knowing it had been Draven who'd been shot, making it obvious who was more important.
Canary stumbled a good ten feet from the vehicle, dropping to the ground to pull her knees up to her chest as she choked, trying to breathe. The panic had full taken over at that point, shaking violently as she raked her fingers along her arms, trying to draw herself back from that edge.
“She just shot me,” Draven said, voice quivering with suppressed rage.
"Who the hell even gave the greenlight for her to go on a mission?" Faither muttered, pulling a first aid kit from under the seat. "And why the fuck hasn't she been kicked in general?"
“I would except for the fact that my leg is shot,” Draven said with an eye roll. “Honestly, she doesn’t belong.” His voice carried in true clear night.
"Truer words have yet to be spoken." Faither agreed, pulling out the antiseptic bottle and cotton balls.
“Why was she even paired with me?” Draven asked, tone annoyed. “It’s not like she’s actually good at it. More likely than not, she will just make everything worse.”
"I'll call in, see if I can figure out why." Faither said, starting on cleaning the gun wound. "My guess? Glitch, or somebody desperately wants her to kick it on this mission. Hopefully it's not too late to swap her out. Canary. What kind of codename for a spy is that?"
“Right? A pretty little bird good only for looking at and listening to. Worthless.”
The sound of a vehicle pulling to a stop, and then continuing on, could be heard outside the car as Faither nodded. "Though I can't say her voice is at all worth listening to when she's got nothing good to say."
“When does she ever?” Draven muttered, sticking his hand into his pocket, feeling around for his whetstone. It had been a gift from his uncle before he died, and rubbing it always helped calm him down.
It wasn’t there. Panicking, he looked around on the floor and the seat, but couldn’t find it. He growled. “I’m going to rip her to shreds.”
"What is it?" Faither asked, furrowing his brows as he lifted Draven's leg just enough to get a bandage around it to keep the gauze in place, knowing neither of them was in the mood to deal with any removal of his pants, or the undeniable weirdness to follow.
(No… with the mood he’s in, my poor child would rip his throat out…)
“Something that belonged to me,” he hissed.
A voice echoed in his head. “As a spy, you should value nothing. At any minute, it could be stolen, or broken. You don’t need anything, or anyone. Got that?”
((Lmao, it would just be weird in general for Faither to ask, too. And the guy, despite being an asshole, knows that. He's good with letting Draven deal with that later.))
Faither sneered, not at Draven, but more directed towards Canary. "Give me a second, I'll go get it-" He cut off as he stepped away, looking around in shock. "Where the fuck did she go?"