Distractions

Twenty-Three: Maybe Pizza Doesn't Fix Everything

This chapter is interesting to say the least. Some sibling-not-sibling bonding, lectures, tattoos, and Everest being Everest all appear. Have fun.

Trigger Warning: Needles/blood draws are mentioned, Everest does use a gun, panic attacks, and tattoos are given. As always, a warning will be around the part of the aforementioned triggers

Everest had quickly changed into jeans and a sweater, throwing on a warm looking leather jacket over top and tucking her gun into one of its pockets. She followed after Jace, who had been waiting for her in the hall, as she tried to pull her hair back into a ponytail. It only sort of worked.

"This better be good," she grumbled as she aggressively tucked the loose strands of fading purple behind her ears. She'd need to recolor her hair soon.

"It's Valentine. I think our definition of good and his definition of it are very different." Everest hated to admit that Jace had a point, but he did. Whatever Valentine wanted to 'show' them was probably some murderer or crime scene.

Valentine was talking to two people when the siblings made it to the top deck. One of them was Cyprus. Everest groaned and lagged behind Jace, who was so busy trying to avoid the Circle members swarming the ship that he didn't notice. Once she was sure Jace wouldn't follow, Everest bolted.

She ran through the ship, towards the kitchen, not caring if she knocked into someone. She dodged flying weapons, angry shouts, and startled mundanes the entire run to the other side of the ship. Everest slammed the kitchen door shut and she frantically dug in the cabinets.

"Please have good food. Please have granola bars or something. Please," she muttered over and over again like it was a chant.

It seemed that it was Everest's lucky day. As she was going through the cabinets on her third round, she found a small pile of granola bars sitting innocently amongst the spices. She eagerly tore one open, desperate for something besides coffee and Skittles. If she had to deal with whatever Valentine wanted to show her and Jace, then she would need something that had a chance at filling her up.

Someone cleared their throat. Everest whirled. Behind her was Valentine, watching her with narrowed beady eyes and a contemplative frown.

"Follow me," he commanded, and Everest was scared to disobey. His voice was low pitched and harsh in the way that most men's voices got when angry. It was a voice that she had learned to listen to very quickly. (Unfortunately it was a voice many people, especially women, learned to listen to very quickly.)

Trigger warning: Needles/blood draw

She followed him down to a level she hadn't been on before. It was full of lab tables and cages, medical equipment and scribbled notes. It was terrifying in the way that the labs of mad scientists in books always were—except this one was real. Valentine pointed to a sterile white bench, Everest sat without hesitation. At least it wasn't a chair. He pulled her sleeves up in one harsh motion and pulled out a rather large syringe and without warning the syringe needle was in her arm. Everest cried out, more out of shock than pain. The syringe filled with blood that had a strange shimmer to it, but also an odd shadowy depth. Neither description was one that should be used to describe blood, but that was the only way Everest knew how to describe it.

Valentine absentmindedly handed her a band aid as he placed the syringe in a container without a word. Everest watched with wide eyes as he beckoned for her to follow him.