Arknights | Hand in Unlovable Hand, Chapter 26

[veryroundbird]

Rating: Spicy
Chapter: 26/28
Characters: Doctor (F), Kal'tsit, Amiya, various others
Relationships: Doctor/Kal'tsit, Kal'tsit/Theresa, Theresa/Doctor
Summary: Dr. Lau returns to Rhodes Island a stranger in a strange land, in a labyrinth of things that feel like they should be familiar but aren't—and at the center is Dr. Kal'tsit and all the things she's not saying. Even if amnesia's changed her, though, the Doctor wouldn't be the Doctor if she didn't have an impulse to solve for the missing variable.
Notes: while this fic is marked as "spicy" the only actual sexual content is in chapters 8, 9, 17, 23 and 27, and there's cliff notes for the scenes at the bottom of the chapter. sexual content is noted in the start of chapters where it appears.

I will walk down to the end with you
If you will come all the way down with me.

---

Considering how hard-fought your passage down here was, the final touches are deceptively simple, and leave you little to do.¹ Staring idly up at the equipment above you, there's something... strikingly familiar. It's only when you hear Kal'tsit clear her throat from next to your shoulder that you startle—not sure how long you were standing there, and not sure why your eyes are wet.

"Is there something still on your mind?" she asks. As she was disabling the device, she'd been of a mind to tell you a little bit about her recent history with it, which—given your relationship, felt like something of an olive branch, and furthermore—

—how many people does she even have to share her grief with?² So, at the very least, you could listen.

But in the midst of all of that, you'd had questions,³ starting with how did she become an expert on unknown technology unearthed from so far below ground a mining expedition hit it? And also...

You rub your eyes and glance at her, sideways. "You talked a lot about the sarcophagus," you say. "But nothing about me."

There's a slight upturn to one corner of her mouth.⁴ "Right," she says, nodding slowly. "I'd rather you be the one to broach the subject."

It takes you a long moment to decide even where to start. There are so many questions you could ask, but—

—you might as well start with the beginning.⁵ This time you do turn to look her in the eye, meeting her gaze for a moment.

"Kal'tsit," you say, carefully, "why did I wake up here? And—what's that second thing that had to do with you, here?"

She studies you, a slight frown on her face, and then looks down, with a quiet exhale. "Actually," she says, "this is the reason why I escorted you here. There are a few things that Amiya doesn't want me to tell you,⁶ but—this may be our last chance. Before we have the sarcophagus buried, I need to pluck those fragments of truth out of your brain."

You tilt your head slightly, brow furrowed. "If there's anything left in my head from then, it's all yours."

Even so, she still looks at you skeptically,⁷ even when you shoot her a wounded look in silent reply. "Dr. Lau," she says, briskly. "Three years ago, with a heavily injured you in tow, I came back to this long-forgotten place, and placed you inside this device."

Before you can even open your mouth to ask the questions that raises, she goes on. "This device can heal your pain, and only your pain."

What? Actually, that's enough of a question on its own for you to put voice to it. "What? Is that—you can't just stop there."

"That was as detailed as I could possibly be, in explaining it,"⁸ she says, and gives a long sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "The white creature we encountered earlier looked bizarre, didn't it? That wasn't how he used to look. From this, I can conclude that before he took on that form, he entered the sarcophagus, and that was how the sarcophagus was activated."

She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "...Perhaps he saw the footage of Amiya taking you out of the sarcophagus.⁹ Nonetheless, it shouldn't have happened..." Her gaze lingers on the machine for a long moment. "The sarcophagus was originally designed to heal its operator, but the boy got inside, and that's how disaster struck."

Which is alarming, for a lot of reasons. What device can just do that, for one thing, and—

...well. Look at you.¹⁰

Kal'tsit seems to pick up on your unspoken question. "You saw the end result yourself. That creature wasn't a product of nature," she says, frowning. "Its transformation was entirely a man-made process. The sarcophagus transformed it."

You rub your thumb anxiously along the other fingers of your right hand. "But, then—"

She nods. "Yes. You received treatment in the sarcophagus. The device reacted to you two in completely different ways."

"So—" You cut off abruptly, mouth working ahead of your brain, trying to figure out what you're even trying to put to her.¹¹ "You're trying to say... between Mephisto and I—there's something different."

Kal'tsit makes a soft sort of tut-tut noise, like you're a student slow on the uptake. "Of course, Dr. Lau. The two of you couldn't be any more different. Is there anyone out there like us?" She shakes her head. "Is anyone out there like you? Perhaps this machine can only cure people like you,¹² and not him. Perhaps this machine forces its patients to take on their oldest aspects.¹³ Perhaps I'm the only one who's allowed to operate it, even—"¹⁵

A shrug; deceptively casual.¹⁶ "In any case, you survived. As for him—he became the source of the Herd. The world is a big place, and no one is exactly like anyone else.¹⁷ You and I, Amiya, him, and everyone else. All of us are different, and from my point of view, all of you are nothing like me. Who can understand me, and who can understand you?"

Good question, honestly. If you can find someone like that, you'd want to keep them on retainer to explain at minimum your own brain to you.¹⁸

"How many lives around us have been lost, and how many tragedies that we are powerless to stop have occurred?" Kal'tsit crosses her arms over her waist with a quiet sigh, and fixes the sarcophagus with a hard stare. "Were my students not studying... this,¹⁹ because they were trying to create a better place? Why... why must greed bring about so many meaningless deaths? Isn't this just a stupid, stubborn tragedy?"

She huffs, a bitter sound, and you shift on your feet to hover awkwardly a few feet away from her.²⁰ You lace your hands together, and pull them apart, idly. Is it really just tragic? But—

—that's something the old you might have believed, at least based on what you know of her. Sometimes you can't imagine what it would be like to be her at all,²¹ and sometimes, it's too easy.

You think, maybe, that you... she?²² Wouldn't have walked away, because she didn't know what to do with herself, otherwise, without some kind of external mission. Is that why you haven't? This is all you have, after all.

But, on the other hand—on the other hand, even if the last couple days have put you through the wringer... there's the little things. There's carefully leading Popukar back to the children's ward; there's getting high-fives and in some cases over-enthusiastic slaps on the back;²³ there's the little hints of smiles even from a woman who doesn't like you very much.

You close your eyes. "...But I belong here," you say.²⁴ And then pause, before adding: "I want to."

Kal'tsit pauses in motion, looking at you with a slightly perplexed expression. "I see," she says, lower lip curling under just a little bit. "Is it too late for me to convince you to turn back?"²⁵

For a moment, you think she's going to leave it there, but then she gives a tiny shake of her head, as if to herself. "I don't know, though. Should I really do that? You might just be acting, but I should be happy about what you said..."

You look down and away, shuffling your feet a little bit.²⁶ "Should you?" you murmur.

Kal'tsit glances at you for a moment—and then looks briskly away and makes a little light tsk sound. "Nonetheless. I need to remind you, Doctor. This decision isn't going to be that easy.²⁷ Our day-to-day lives are full of agony, and our very lives may not even have any meaning."

"That's... a bit bleak," you say, with a slight tilt of your head, lips pursed.²⁸

"A bright, smooth road is easy to walk. A dark, bumpy road is difficult to tread," she says, casting you a sidelong, studying glance.²⁹ "Even so, be it the scientists or the elite operators of Rhodes Island, the honorable people of Lungmen or the Infected folk of Chernobog who dream of a new life..."

She closes her eyes, with a soft exhale. "All of them are doing their best to limp forward, step by step. They are being chased by their pain, tormented by their nightmares, held back by hatred, and, in the end, death will catch up to them. But they've already escaped from much of their burdens," she says. "Most of us are fragile and weak.³⁰ But what I am trying to say is that all these things that prey on our minds are precisely the things that prove our existence, and that helps us fall asleep at night."

You run a hand backwards through the stray locks of your hair escaped from your bun, and think about that.³¹ After a moment, you give her a sliver of a tired smile. "You may be right."

She meets your eyes—and then looks very abruptly away, as if for once she's the one who can't tolerate the eye contact.³² "Doctor." It comes out a little strained-sounding.³³ "I'm telling you all this mostly out of responsibility, because of a promise I made..." She drums the fingers of one hand against her opposite elbow. "And also because I have high hopes for the future. I have... high hopes for you."

"Do you?" You blink, bewildered. If she does, that's news to you.³⁴ But—

...then again, even after leaning hard on the fact that she doesn't trust you to be useful in combat, she's still handing some of these decisions directly to you.³⁵

She doesn't directly respond, though.³⁶ "And, Dr. Lau, I know I tend to act rather hostile against you, but I hope you won't let it get to you. I will try my best to hold back."

You pull a face—your best flat expression of exasperation.³⁷ "You could try to be a bit more polite, you know."

"My attitude stems from what I remember about you. Your memories may have been erased, but there is nothing wrong with mine." She raises her eyebrows. "This here is a life functions restoration device for home use.³⁸ It shouldn't have a function like that. Perhaps the machine malfunctioned, or..."

She makes unflinching eye contact with you for a long moment, brow furrowed—before looking away and shaking her head slightly. "Maybe your acting is really that impeccable.³⁹ Regardless—you are innocent on the surface only because you've lost your memories."

"That's—" You bite your lower lip. You don't know what to say, or if you should say anything.⁴⁰

"Don't feel uncomfortable because of what I am about to tell you."⁴¹ She pauses for a moment, and then turns her head back up to look at you, and—you're startled to see her face set in hard, angry lines.⁴² "Just this once—just this once, I'll let my emotions flow free. I simply wanted to remind you this, even though Amiya doesn't want me to. If I could—I would settle my score with you. I would take my revenge."

You frown. "You—"

"When you regain your memories, you will have the opportunity to scrutinize the choices you made," she cuts in sharply, before you can even fully consider what you meant to say. "Yet even if you repent your sins or your memories are actually lost forever⁴³—you cannot change the way I see you. I won't allow the seeds of hatred deep inside me to grow, but I have the right to keep them there." Her fists ball at her sides, and her tone comes out clipped. "I have the right to forever remain furious."

Standing there, you realize you've reflexively raised a hand, but you're still not sure... what you could even say to her. Can you even ask her to be any less upset than this?⁴⁴

After a long silence, though, she shakes her head—maybe more to herself than to you.⁴⁵ "...Still, I don't even know who I should be directing my anger at, anymore."

You scrub lightly at your face, and hold your hands up in mock-surrender. "Well. I'm still here, for that."⁴⁶

The corners of her mouth twitch downwards.⁴⁷ "I don't think of you as the same person you were. If I did, I wouldn't even be talking to you," she says, combing her fingers idly back through her bangs. "I'd rather you—" Her voice wavers and she frowns, closing her eyes tightly for a moment; there's a shiny dampness at the corners of her eyes.⁴⁸ "I'd rather you—"

There's a pregnant pause; a breath, as she collects herself. And then she just scrubs a hand over her eyes. Her voice is quiet and raw, when she speaks. "I still have no idea why Theresa had so much faith in you."⁴⁹

"Ah..." You look down at your feet. "Ah."

"Theresa was my friend," says Kal'tsit. "She was my partner. Theresa died three years ago. I lost her forever." Her voice takes on a raw edge. "Do you want to know the truth, Doctor?"⁵⁰

You realize that at some point you started clenching your hands tightly, nails digging crescents into your palms.⁵¹ You very slowly uncurl them.

She doesn't wait for you to respond.⁵² "Neither of us can escape from our past," she goes on. "Doctor. Dr. Lau. There used to be someone else who had your body, and there was blood on those hands."

One long, shuddering inhale, as you close your eyes; one even longer exhale. You knew this was coming. So, when she says, "'You' killed Theresa," it shouldn't make you feel like you've carved your own chest open.

It shouldn't.⁵³ But here you are.

"What irks me the most is that you lost all your memories when you were put in the sarcophagus," Kal'tsit says, with a long sigh.⁵⁴ "Yet that doesn't change the truth—the truth that has nothing to do with 'you' one bit. Unfortunate for both of us." She shakes her head slowly, lips pursed.⁵⁵ "Even though I can't hurt you in any way, I want you to remember this—"

She waits until you lift your gaze to look at her; her expression is sharp, and unflinching. "Theresa trusted you, and Amiya still does," she says, flatly. "But I don't."

"So, I—" You let out your held breath;⁵⁶ it's a moment longer before you can finally bring yourself to open your eyes. "So. What happened?"

She clicks her tongue. "I won't tell you."

"Oh, come on—"

"This question isn't for me to answer," she continues, pronouncing it like a court sentence. Her mouth bows further into a frown. "Otherwise, I'm afraid I might just end up placing a curse on you."⁵⁷

There's so many things you could ask and you suspect she's not going to answer most of them. In the end, the one you end up asking is more to yourself than to her. "So... who am I? Who am I, right now?"

Kal'tsit gives you a deeply weary look, like you've just said something obviously ridiculous.⁵⁸ "You are Dr. Zhanchi Lau. The one everyone calls Doctor." She exhales in a noise of mild exasperation. "Just another soul in this vast world."

Just another soul in this vast world... well, you know what? That, at least... that, at least, you can work with.⁵⁹ "All right," you say, slowly, rubbing at your forehead. "This is a lot."

"Hmph," she mutters, and tilts her head away from you, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I won't ask you to trust me.⁶⁰ I also won't tell you any more about the truth." There's a very slight, almost self-conscious dip of her head, and her tone softens, just a little. "My bitterness will twist my narrative.⁶¹ Therefore—aside from the keys you need to unlock the whole picture, aside from the most basic truths, I won't tell you anything."

"Listen," you say, hands pressed against your face, "as long as you're still talking to me. Is that really..." All these words are so hard to put together in your head. "Is that really why?"

She runs her tongue lightly over her lower lip. "...I'm trying to protect you," she says, after a moment, looking down at her feet. "Just like what I promised to do—to protect both you and Amiya."

Who would have asked—no, you know.⁶²

There's a deep exhaustion etched on her face. "Until the moment you breathe your last breath, Doctor. That's my responsibility."⁶³ Her white eyelashes flutter together as she closes her eyes, shoulders hunching. "But I will never stop hating you. I am in no position to educate or criticize Rosmontis. After all, I might not be able to hold myself back from taking revenge."

You open your mouth to argue,⁶⁴ and take a half-step toward her, but—

—your head swims, white spots criss-crossing your vision, and you stagger. The last thing you remember is a flicker of sudden surprise in Kal'tsit's face as she turns toward you, and then—

No—what you remember is fear. Once again you are afraid, which is what links every part of your life together. Once again, you are desperate, running with a body that won't carry you fast enough as you need it to, even though the persistent pressure in your chest is gone—

This time, you're not alone, though. There's a panicked flurry of people running every which way, sirens blaring above you—all you can think of is one place to find refuge. You find the machine, its lid standing open, and climb inside.

Even with the adrenaline, drowsiness sets in almost immediately; you're not sure how long you lay there, tucked away quietly, when someone takes your hand—

She calls you by your given name, and tells you that this way, you'll live; that this way, you'll never meet again. And as your consciousness fades, she asks you to make a promise.

Dimly, you hear someone saying your name, but you're not sure if it's in your memory or in the present moment. Your mouth is moving, but your brain isn't catching up fast enough to understand what shape it's making until dimly, you hear yourself say—

"Priest...ess...?"

There's a steadying hand on your arm, holding you up; you blink, re-focusing your eyes on Kal'tsit, whose features are drawn with concern.⁶⁵ "...Zhanchi?"

Your mouth feels strangely dry, and the pit of your stomach hollow, like a wound you hadn't noticed until just now, like the ache of a phantom limb.⁶⁶ "Kal'tsit," you say. Your voice comes out barely above a whisper; you try again. "Kal'tsit. "Who's Priestess?"

"That's—" she starts, half-raising a hand, and shakes her head. "I can't—"

"You—you can't, or you won't—"

It feels like the whole room is spinning. You can't slow down your breathing. What is happening—

"I can't, Zhanchi, so—"

And then the entire structure shakes, metal creaking and groaning above you, and it takes you several full seconds to register it because your mind is on fire, fraying at the edges. You just need to sit and stop and... and think, but there's no time—

Where are you? When—which fluorescent-lit bare-walled facility on which ill-omened day. Your head buzzes like an electric wire and you can't breathe, you have to stop, you have to—

"Zhanchi—"⁶⁷

Pressure on your wrist. You blink, and debris and loose wiring fall just past your head as Kal'tsit yanks you out of its path. When did that...

Oh. You're in the hall.⁶⁸ "Focus," Kal'tsit says, brows knitting together, and lets go of your arm; you're at the back of the pack of the strike team. "We have to hurry. The command tower isn't far, but watch your surroundings, Dr. L—"

You're not thinking straight, or really thinking at all. But as she turns to pull away, you just want something—someone—to hold onto, in this present moment—

Your hand finds hers, and she stops in her tracks, head jerking back toward you in startlement. "Doctor."

"Just—" You exhale slowly, trying to slow down your heart from trying to beat its way out of your chest. It's starting to work.⁶⁹ "Kal'tsit. I'm... just..."

You should peel your hand off of hers. She should be pulling back.⁷⁰ The rest of your operators are heading on.

"I am..." You squeeze your eyes shut, and open them again, staring down at her hand in yours.⁷¹ "I can keep up. I just—can't... keep my own head where it's supposed to be right now, and I need—" You.⁷² "Please."

She shifts, slightly. For a moment, you think she's going to let go, but—instead, she just adjusts her hand carefully, to weave her fingers with yours.

"Dr. Lau," she says, in a low voice.⁷³

"I... I know," you say, shakily. "You can tell everyone that I was having a nervous breakdown, if you want, because I... probably am. I just—" You toss your head a little, to try and get the hair out of your eyes.⁷⁴ "I know you said I didn't have to trust you."

Kal'tsit opens her mouth for a second, and you're not entirely sure what word she's trying to form.⁷⁵ But she lets the silence hang, even as she's pulling you along with her, and you can't stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth, anyway. "But you're the one I trust with this most of all. With me. Even so."

"Oh," she says.⁷⁶

"So," you say, focusing on the firm grip of her hand, the imagined warmth of her skin through the protective gloves,⁷⁷ "if you don't mind letting me rely on you. Just this time. I can make it through the rest."

She doesn't quite respond, but—after a long moment she nods, and then after another long moment you take a proper step forward to match her pace, and then another.⁷⁸ And if any of the operators along with you notice, all of them are too polite or too professional or both to ask.

[1] You're not qualified for a lot of it, honestly; hazardous material cleanup requires training you don't have, and Kal'tsit's the only one who can deal with the Sarcophagus.

[2] It's hard to even guess at anyone she'd feel comfortable with vulnerability around. You certainly didn't expect it to be you; maybe, though, a certain ability to be impersonal around you makes it easier for her. And if you can be that... that's fine.

[3] It all feels like a tiny glimpse of some great ocean leviathan; a great and terrible creature impossible to grasp as one singular person.

[4] You cannot quite call it a half-smile, because there's nothing remotely like a smile to it.

[5] As you know it, anyway; that dark day back here. December twenty-third.

[6] That Amiya doesn't want her to tell you? First of all... that implies that Kal'tsit wants to tell you anything at all, which is wild to imagine, and second of all—what does Amiya know?
Then again, the way people speak of her, and the way she acts sometimes—you wonder how much she really does know.

[7] Would you really be this much of a disaster if you remembered everything?
Okay, scratch that, the answer is probably yes.

[8] All right, that's got to be bullshit on some level. There's got to be more to it than that, but—it's not like you think she's a liar.

[9] You really threw a wrench into a lot of things that day, huh. Your own life included.

[10] You are probably not a monster, at least—ways people have talked about you notwithstanding. Evil spirit of Babel and all.

[11] Like—is the question "why am I alive"? Or "why did it work for me and not for him," or "what is this thing even for," or...

[12] What does that even mean? You are ready to beg. Please. You shouldn't be any different, and yet...

[13] Okay that's even more of a loaded answer that she's just moving right on from. What?

[15] That raises even more questions. Why is she like this! Why are you in l—
Wait. You were going to put that off until later. You can at least keep that promise, even if it's just to yourself.

[16] It's definitely not actually casual; she has never done anything casually in her entire life, you're quite sure.

[17] Well. That's certainly true, if kind of a cop-out answer; sometimes you're worried about how you fit in to everything and if you can really be like what people want of you. But it would be too weird if there was a machine that only worked for you, specifically.

[18] Actually that's probably called "a therapist."

[19] There's a long pause, and almost a snarl to her face that makes you think what she's actually saying internally is along the lines of "this fucking piece of garbage," even though you definitely can't imagine her saying that aloud.

[20] This is definitely not the time to try and close that distance, but you have no idea what to do with yourself. The bleak, bitter tone to her voice is more raw emotion than you're used to hearing from her; the last time you saw that was, well—
...when she castigated you for asking about Theresa at all. So, you're not sure how to approach it.

[21] In a way—maybe because of the way you woke up here. That version of you was lonely, and set apart, and self-conscious of her shortcomings and the things that made her different.
But from the very start, in this life you can remember—all kinds of people reached out to you, and they were kind. And maybe, just maybe... that changed everything.

[22] You're still not sure how you want to refer to the "you" of the past. Is that still you, or a different person altogether?

[23] Thanks, Blaze. Truly.

[24] As you say it, you realize that it's something that you really do believe. Not just that you should be here, but...

[25] At first, you bristle; like, yes, yes, you know, she wants you to stay way the hell away from her, but—
After you get past the initial kneejerk reaction, there's something in her expression that gives you pause. A little furrow of concern in her brow that's odd for the circumstance. It's not like her to be worried for herself, like that, so... you don't know what to do with that.

[26] You really don't know what to her feeling like she should be happy about you feeling like you should be at Rhodes Island.

[27] No shit, Kal'tsit. Do you look like you don't know that by now?

[28] You're starting to realize that her no-nonsense attitude overlays a sort of... very deep melancholy. Deeper, perhaps, then you can entirely know or understand. "Who of us is like anyone else" indeed.

[29] Like she's waiting for your reaction, trying to see how you respond to her words. Like a test, maybe, but her stance is less like a proctor, for once, and more like... hm. You're not sure.

[30] Wild to hear her group herself in with the "fragile and weak," since you can scarcely imagine her being either of those things.

[31] The things that prove your existence... it's all the kindness you've been shown, in part—but also, the things that FrostNova passed on to you, and that you feel responsible for in turn. What you've seen, and what you want to do about it, for the people who can't.

[32] Weird experience, honestly.

[33] It's a little worrying to hear her voice waver like that; it's not something that happens, except, of course—of course it does. But that she either can't or won't hide it from you means she must be under a lot of stress.

[34] Though, if you think back—during the planning session earlier, you were actually working well together, whenever you could both manage to forget your grievances. As much as she keeps ribbing you about where you fall short.

[35] Maybe she meant something by it after all, rather than just trying to give you some sort of enrichment.

[36] Not that you really expected it.

[37] If this is holding back, you're not sure whether to give her a poor grade in that or worry about what not holding back looks like.

[38] For home use—she's got to be shitting you. What? What? And she's probably not going to tell you any more than that but honestly forget her trying to pull anything out of your head; you direly want to pick her brain.

[39] Look, as far as you can tell you were not so much a good actor as you were someone who didn't communicate well. It's very different!

[40] It's not as if you can protest, with her holding all the knowledge.
Maybe, though... the answer to why Amiya wouldn't want you to know certain things is to let you keep your innocence a little longer. It seems like the kind of thing she would think to do.

[41] Well, she can dream, but joke's on her because you're already so deeply uncomfortable and feeling like you're going to turn into a pile of unhappy, nauseous sludge.

[42] A lot of this day has been dredging up old wounds for her, it seems; even so, you haven't seen her so angry since that night in the hallway, and even then—maybe not even then.

[43] You've never told anyone about the little bits and pieces that keep coming back to you—in dreams, in unconscious moments, in bits of deja vu. You've just not been sure if it's better to let those things lie, and—maybe it really is.

[44] Do you even want her to be?

[45] She wilts, just a little bit; some of the energy seems to leave her.

[46] You've come to the realization that for better or for worse, you don't mind if she yells at you so long as she talks to you.

[47] Almost a little reproachful, as if she'd really honestly rather not take you up on that. Maybe she'd really rather not have any kind of relationship with you, like she said. Or—
—maybe she wishes she didn't feel this way. Which is a feeling you understand very well.

[48] Oh. She really is teary-eyed, again, and—there's nothing you can do about it.

[49] You wish you knew, too.

[50] Yes. No.

[51] You're not sure. But the fact of the matter is that you think you already do know.

[52] Or maybe she takes your silence as a response, anyway. It wouldn't be wrong.

[53] If you could say that you weren't that person at all—would you feel this way?
You don't know.

[54] Like you're being an amnesiac just to annoy her.

[55] Still tightly controlled, even though she's let more emotion leak out than usual, here; like she's trying to hold it all in, still.

[56] It stings. It really, really stings; you knew this, and even so.

[57] You're not sure if she means that dredging it up again would unleash all her hatred onto you, or... if telling you about how you were too early would make you that person she hates, again. Maybe both.

[58] Admittedly, you feel kind of silly saying it aloud.

[59] Honestly, you like that better than anything else anyone's ever tried to say about you. Just one more weirdo out here.

[60] She won't ask you to, no. But—
Maybe it's stupid of you. You've been going back and forth on this for weeks, because she's caustic and frustrating and evasive when you'd really prefer her not to be. You don't trust her not to hurt you. But you trust her to do the right thing, and it turns out that matters more.

[61] If you take her words at surface value, they're not kind, but—the way her mouth twists, just slightly, the way her gaze slides down off you and to the floor, the way her brows knit but her eyes don't narrow. It's almost like she wishes she didn't hold it against you.

[62] If she made a promise to anyone that she intended to keep like this, it had to have been to Theresa.

[63] ...that makes it sound a little bit like you've been giving her trouble. You probably have, admittedly, with every scare and near miss, and by bringing up all the things she'd rather just let lie.

[64] Because, as controlled as she is—no, it's not just that. It's not just her self-control, but—that, maybe...
...maybe, after hearing her talk about her students, earlier, and the feeling of responsibility she carries for not being able to save them, that you feel like some part of her anger is directed at herself, too.

[65] Not dissimilar to the expression she gets whenever Amiya returns from a mission.

[66] Like a plant unburied in the spring thaw, only to be dead for good, anyway.

[67] You'd appreciate it more that she called you by your given name if you were, you know, entirely lucid.

[68] ...did she drag you out here? She must have.

[69] Slowly, but—still. She can't do what Amiya does, but—it's enough.

[70] She should. She's not. You don't know why.

[71] It doesn't quite feel real, but—it's the thing that feels most real, out of everything around you.

[72] You can't say it. You're pretty sure she wouldn't accept it. But.
Even with everything in your head clattering around, even with the faint, brief memory of another woman, so many years ago, and aching, defrosted, disconnected grief eating a hole in your chest—you know who you want by your side in the here and now.

[73] You can't quite tell, your thoughts as scrambled as they are, if she's saying it out of concern or self-consciousness or worry about what others will think or irritation. Maybe all.

[74] It is, as usual, futile.

[75] Don't, maybe.

[76] Quietly enough that maybe you don't even hear it; maybe you just can imagine the sound from reading it off her lips.

[77] You probably don't really feel it, you're sure. But it's a sense-memory you'd be hard-pressed to forget.

[78] Step by step. Following her, and then at her side; you can do this.