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5th floor common room ; wednesday afternoon

While Flick could deal with the cold weather, that didn't mean he wanted to be out in it, freezing his ass off for longer than necessary. And today, going out there wasn't necessary. He didn't have any classes to run to and he didn't have the motivation to slink into town to try and relieve some townspeople of their belongings.

All he really had the energy to do was wake up, put on some clothes and make his way down to the common room so he could scrounge some food and take advantage of their comfortable sofas. Doing this probably made him lazy but he didn't care. He figured he should take advantage of the downtime since it looked like he had to get back to New York sooner rather than later. It was almost Ranking Day and apparently, Mandel wanted Flick there to see the Dux title taken away.

Honestly, Flick didn't really care. He'd done it on purpose and he was at peace with it. He knew what was going to happen, he knew what he was and what he had to do so he didn't need the title. Joi could have it and be safe. The television was on but Flick wasn't paying that much attention to the soap opera he'd stopped on. His attention was on the news articles that he was scrolling through on his phone.

Time to see what the Mandel alumni (including his asshole father) were up to. See how they were wrecking lives and what the current Mandel students had to look forward to. Such a lovely world they were shaping.

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"You lead a very exciting life," he quipped, shaking his head. "I would have gone for the teeth. Make him or her look ridiculous and rub it in every time you see them."

Flick didn't care too much about prettiness. Obviously.

"But, it sounds like you've been having more fun than I have," he added after a moment. "I went home for...well, I was there for nearly a month. I think a day passed here."

Stupid time weirdness.

"You're right, that does sound less than fun."

Based on how his trips home usually went in her past experience. Which she did actually remember, regardless of how her aloof manner might have made it seem from time to time.

"I definitely had more fun."

"It cleared some things up, at least," he said idly, looking away from her and settling his eyes on the television screen. He wasn't really watching it though.

"So, not fun but eye opening." And fairly decisive, Flick thought. But, Flick was also stubborn and wasn't seeing the big picture just yet.

Isabelle glanced over at him, then sipped her coffee again, her bracelets clinking together with the movement. "Well, that sounds good in its own way. I guess. I don't really know, so I'm just saying."

Flick couldn't help laughing at her words. Hey, points for trying even if she didn't really know. Lots and lots of points for the attempt.

"Well, one of your predictions about me is going to come true so you can go to sleep tonight knowing you were right."

Or so he thought.

"But yeah, it's totally good. Good to have a path," he added, shrugging. "And don't let that admittance of you being right go to your head unless you're gonna buy me dinner this go 'round."

"Only if you'll start coming on to me at the table this time," Isabelle quipped, raising an eyebrow. Like it had been so hard on her to be the first one to start something. "What am I right about now, anyway? Except everything, always."

"Hey, I'll come onto you whenever you want," Flick said and even added a ridiculous wink because why not? It made thinking about other things a little easier when he let himself loosen up. "You just happened to beat me to it last time."

And he'd enjoyed it, of course.

"And you were right about the whole dying thing," he added like it was an afterthought. He'd been working on coming to peace with it and all. "It's pretty much a certainty. Oh well."

Easier said than accepted.

Isabelle raised her eyebrow again, and even skipped continuing on with that first topic. For the moment, anyway.

"That was some eye-opening trip home you had."

Flick mourned the temporary loss of the first topic. He really did.

But, he shrugged a shoulder and stretched his legs out in front of him, one arm tucked under his head.

"It'll save people if I die." No, it wouldn't but he thought it would. Jude was cursing his name from the afterlife. "So, I'll die and let my brain get dissected. It'll be worth it."

There was a lot of bravado and a lot of repression going into his words right now.

Isabelle watched him in silence for a long moment, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly.

Then she said, "That's not what I predicted."

"Well, you were close enough," he remarked, glancing over at her and forcing a look of both acceptance and peace onto his face. It was hard but he managed. "But, I'll do it if it means more people don't die."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. She wasn't buying that acceptance and peace, either, no matter how convincing.

"You were supposed to die out of recklessness, not... whatever this is."

"That time wasn't recklessness either!" Flick almost snapped. "That time was because I didn't steal something from an innocent man that would have probably ended up leading to his death too!"

Also known as the reason that he'd ended up on this island in the first place.

Flick reined himself back in though, settling back against the couch. "Whatever this is is the only way. It is what it is. I die so everyone else survives. I let Lucian Mandel dissect my brain so he can see if his precious predator gene exists and he stops killing kids."

He had such high hopes.

Isabelle held up a hand. Actually, a finger. "Okay, one," she said. "Do not yell at me." He hadn't, really, but just to make sure for the future. Another finger. "Two, I wasn't referring to a specific time, but I guess you have too much trauma to realize that."

Third finger.

"And three ––" She dropped her hand. "–– that's the stupidest plan I've ever heard. Actually, it's not even a plan. It's just an idea. Still stupid, though."

Flick couldn't help but glare at her when she started ticking things off on her fingers. He didn't really ever recall anyone doing that to him before so it was glare worthy.

"I didn't yell at you," he grumbled, turning his glare back to the television for a moment while he wondered how she'd ended up agreeing with Jude. His dead brother, of all people, had supporters.

"But, it's not an idea, it's a plan. Already took some measures to ensure that I'd be the one on his freaking lab table," he shared, shaking his head. "There isn't a third option. Isabelle, my freaking father made a bet about this, about my brain and what's inside it. He bet on his kid. He's expecting this and if he gets what he wants, maybe he can stop this shit."

Maybe. Sigh.

"Maybe."

Isabelle didn't sound like she thought that was likely. It just didn't go with Shadowhunter mentality to sacrifice yourself, like that. In battle, yes, but what sounded like laying down and dying and hoping it solved things?

No.

"What?" Flick asked, raising an eyebrow at her. He figured she didn't believe him from both the tone of her very succinct one word reply.

She shrugged. "Nothing. It's none of my business. It's not my job to convince you not to be an idiot."

"I don't know what else to do," he said, trying not sound as helpless as he felt. Flick clenched a fist and took a few breaths.

"Let me see your hand," he said, trying to prove that he was really right in the middle of a rock and a hard place. "I wanna show you something."

Isabelle sighed and rolled her eyes again, but gave him her hand. The right one, with the black Mark in the shape of an eye.

"Don't roll your eyes," Flick said dryly, rolling his own eyes at her. "It's rude."

He was still trying to be sarcastic despite everything. He took her hand and guided it to a spot near his hairline, very close to his temple.

There was a small incision there and, underneath, something bumpy that could be felt. He pushed her fingers there and then let go.

"It's a tracking device," he said. "He implanted me with it. He knows where I am, I take it out, he ends up killing more people because I misbehaved."

Not really the right word for it but whatever. "I've got no other options."

By the Angel, mundies and their obsession with technology. Her fingertips were light against his skin but yes, she felt the bump.

"Regardless, I can't believe that."

Flick didn't move his head while she had her fingers near his temple because he really didn't want to dislodge something that was implanted in his head.

"What do you believe, then?" he asked, curious despite himself.

"I believe there are more options," she said, pulling her hand away again, returning to cradling her mostly empty coffee cup. "And I think you do too. Wouldn't you have just gone and gotten it over already if you didn't? Or is it a timing thing, or sentimentality?"

Or good old-fashioned fear of death.

"Timing," he answered after a quiet pause. "There are other things I need to take care of before I...do anything else, I guess."

He wasn't afraid to die but that didn't mean he wanted to die. "I'm in this mess because I want revenge on my father. And I intend to get it. I -- "

Flick sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Maybe there's another option, I don't know. I can't see it right now."

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