Turn abouts' fair play.

[White Rabbit]

Some people wouldn't have been able to define 'chaos,' had they been asked. Most people had their dazzling little lives, full of specific routine, and weekly get-togethers with friends and family; an ordinary job, where all they had to worry about was whether or not they remembered to endorse that nice paycheck before the bank sucked it out of their hands and into an account to join the nice nest-egg that they had built up. When you worked for the Agency, only a select few could claim the aforementioned scenario -- David, on the other hand, could not.

Literally speaking, it was bewildering, albeit amusing, the amount of 'chaos' that could develop over the course of a six-month time frame. Old tasks could be forgotten.. faces washed from one's memory. Homes burned, assets frozen, and identities bleached to non-existance. There would always be a high number of agents taken off the job, but to be 'burned,' and presented with a face-full of confusion and chaos wasn't something he had ever expected; the equation was elementary: Freidrich Antmann had found him out. And the solution had been to burn him. David wasn't an agent any longer.. hell, David no longer existed.. at least not as far as any possible or significant paper trail was concerned. As far as his mind went.. ..it was sound. Even if full of holes, voids, and missing pieces. Truthfully, such a grand-scale cover up should have been expected - and heeded; the White Rabbit could have thought himself lucky, had he any remote idea of who he had once been. It was no secret that some former employees, military background or otherwise, had not made off so easily. Or, alive.

Alive could have been an over-statement, given the current condition of the burned agent. Sure, there was air in his lungs (although hitched, and short). Thoughts racing through his mind, and an all-too-confused disposition as he stood in the middle of the living room of the hole in the wall apartment he'd once sought shelter in, under the care of the elderly woman he'd considered family. The former rogue agent who, unlike Rabbit, had met her untimely demise; Coroner's report claimed she had passed away due to ailing health.. but.. such was never the case for those forced to live life secretly.

Intact was the broken leather jacket he so often wore, housing both unsteady hands for a time, while the hazel-eyed man stared thoughtfully at the corner of the room. His hair was habitually unkept, and he was missing his hat.. ..among other typical-of-David personal effects. No one that didn't know him would have the eye to even find it peculiar. And, of course in all due respect, who really knew David? Not Rabbit, but.. David. Anyone who might have known him had long since lost his proverbial scent and forgotten him.. much the same as he had been forced to forget them. So, what was it then..?

However, if Rabbit had forgotten everything and everyone, what was it then that had brought him back here To where he had once lived, a hop, skip, and a jump away from the bustling subway? SOme would have likened it to muscle memory, and.. who knew? It might have been, and it might have been more. Be it either, the former agent seemed cautious despite the lack of 'memory' he was dealing with: what had, months ago, been replaced with what could only be now described as 'chaos.'

He merely had no clue what the 'chaos' was now. Not yet, anyway.

[Kalen]

Six months.

Six long months.

Kalen had his work to keep him busy but the initial disappearance of David always nagged at him. It was a worry that he couldn't avoid. An itch he couldn't scratch. He reminded himself that this was why he shouldn't get involved; why he never let his guard down before David. And then .. gone.

He initially thought it might have been something he said or did; maybe David just didn't want to be with him anymore. It was a hard thing, always dodging the cameras and staying as off the grid as Kalen tended to stay. The project to figure out the pills and a way off them had kept them busy. It was information that was beyond Kalen's knowledge; chemistry and the like. There wasn't an operating system for him to hack. But David was brilliant and they'd been making headway. He'd thought they were doing good. A team. They seemed to be cut from the same cautious cloth.

And then he was gone. Just .. gone. When David didn't come back when he normally would be back, Kalen chalked it up to maybe something had happened at work or maybe David had to take care of Annie or something. He didn't get a phone call but he trusted David would contact him when he was able. Then another day went by. No contact. A third. That's when the initial worry started.

The thought that it was something between them that drove David to leave didn't last too long. Kalen finally left the Pit. He used a new route to get to the little apartment where Annie lived. When he saw her dead body, Kalen's chest tightened and a sense of dread gripped him. He got back to the Pit by yet another route, extra careful to make sure he wasn't followed. Paranoia was in full bloom and he fully believed it was not unwarranted. David gone. Annie dead.

Once back, Kalen didn't leave the Pit again for a good long while. He paced. He worried. He wanted to break into the Agency systems and ransack them to find David but knew better than to try. Anything not normal might set off a chain reaction and if David was still alive (he prayed that David was still alive), Kalen didn't want to tip the balance and make him dead.

Days turned into weeks.

Kalen had to leave the Pit for supplies but he stayed off the grid and away from cameras. Big Brother was no longer a concern for him; the agency was. He circled back to the apartment and found it much like he'd left it but Annie was not there. She'd been collected and processed; buried. He drifted on, going to a different haven and staying underground. He figured out where Annie was buried and chanced a visit. Flowers left and a soft prayer spoken for her and David.

Weeks turned into months.

He poured himself into his work. He tried not to think about David. He didn't succeed. He was always on the lookout for him. There were always spider programs scouring for his face on any camera feed that Kalen could access. When he got the hit from a subway cam, Kalen just stared for a long moment to convince himself that it was real. Then he sprang from his chair and it was on.

Tag.

And Kalen knew where he was going to start.

[White Rabbit]

Again, however, David came to an abrupt halt as if something had physically forced him to do so -- in all reality, it had been a very, very, weak, case of deja vu. He'd been there before.. perhaps in the very same spoot he was standing; Whatever the case, he couldn't kick the feeling. Muscle memory. David's brain was attempting to recover, obviously, but all it had managed to do thus far was further him. And stop him.

One hand, no matter how unsteady, latched onto the open door til his knuckles turned white.. and after a moment, in a momentary fit of anger, Rabbit slammed it closed so hard that the interior - the walls, the windows - of the small home shook as if a train had went by five feet away. A breath was exhaled sharply as he did so, and with a clenched jaw, he only paced backwards until his back was flush against the wall of the empty living room.. ..then, he slid down to sit on the heels of his boots. His elbows met his knees, and his hands came up to serve as a prop for his chin. Perhaps the smoke and drink would have to wait a bit: there were more pressing matters to currently overcome. What was this place? Why were the memories (if you could even call them such) so out of focus? And what was with the splitting headache and blurred vision? Near-woozily, David blinked and let head droop further against his hands. Strangely enough, he would've sworn he could hear previous conversations that had taken place here in this very room. ..The only problem was.. he couldn't quite make them out.

[Kalen]

His mind ran in circles as Kalen raced down the street, dropping down the stairs to the subway station. He couldn't move fast enough. Nor could the train. He went to the station where he'd first met David; the one where Kalen had been playing his guitar. No David there. He didn't linger. On to the next stop, questions ever unanswered plaguing him.

He knew the face had been David but where had he been for so long? Was he all right? His face was his but there was something off in his expression. Kalen fidgeted with his phone while the train slid along to the next station. What had happened? He wondered if David knew about Annie. Kalen hated to have to be the one to tell him if he didn't know. But he'd figure that out in short order.

Of the train and down the trail that led to the small apartment, that haven that Kalen had come to think of another home. Annie had been a friend to him and it weighed heavy that he hadn't been able to do anything to help. He knew she wasn't just the victim of old age. Not with that coming so soon after David's disappearance.

His steps slowed slightly but his path remained determined. He was cautious too. He didn't want to run headlong into a trap either. He didn't want to believe that David would willingly be bait but how much could Kalen trust him right now? He wanted to trust him but David had worked for Antman and the question was, what had Antman done to David?

Once Kalen was satisfied that there was no trap set or suspicious bodies hanging around, he went to the door and opened it carefully, easing inside as he looked around to see if David was there. Odds were he wasn't if he ever had been but Kalen had to check; had to know. "David?"