Artificial Willpower

Truth

"Now I run a little black market mechanic shop. Questionable people come in, with questionable things to fix, or make. I don't ask questions, and get untracked paper cash. I have proper forged legal documents, but I'm so close to the facility that I try to fly under every radar... I've been waiting for years, watching through the cameras. Watching them 'perfect' my designs. Watching them decide who would be taken. Watching the first, barbaric surgeries, and the awful experiments... It sucked, but I needed to watch. I needed someone like you, who got far enough."

"Why?" Yancy asked, "The question I've been askin the whole time. Why're youse helpin' me? Why were you waiting? Why not just disconnect yourself completely from this whole mess?"

"I still started the mess, Yancy... You of all people know how deep guilt can run... It affects every little thought. Everything you do, has the outline of blood in your mind..."

He did understand. Yancy understood all too well. Guilt felt like a monster, always lurking right behind you. Even in better moments, it was always hovering right there. Dampening every okay second, and worsening every bad one.

" I... 'm sorry, 'Noise..."

"Nicknames are back... that's a good sign," Illinois half joked, from the other side.

Yancy let out a tiny, weak laugh, "Yeah..." He said, before the slight smile faded, "I... think I believe youse... but I dunno how to trust youse. After... everythin' I just..."

"I get it... Like I said, if you wanna go, you can."

But he couldn't. He couldn't make himself want to. Illinois was like Benjamin. Roped in, but he got out. Illinois was like Yancy. Blood on his hands, ‬but he was fixing it.

Could that be what defined a person? Not their mistakes, but what they do in the aftermath?

How they fix it? How did they change, to save others? If it was, then wouldn't that make Illinois a good person?

Yancy got up and took a deep breath, before pushing the bookshelf out of the way. He pulled the door open and looked at Illinois.

The mechanic's face was stained with tears, but a small smile tugged on his lips once their eyes met.

"Yance, I-"

Whatever Illinois was about to say, was cut short as Yancy hugged him, being very careful with his metal arm, but hugging tightly with the other arm. He understood so much now.

He wasn't sure how long it would take to fully trust Illinois again, after how much he had kept in the dark... but he understood him now.

With understanding, he wasn't afraid.

---

The lies were like an infection. At first, Illinois kept that part of everything in the dark just because he didn't want to overwhelm Yancy.

In that car, when he had first met Yancy, he couldn't imagine telling the poor guy that he was Pitches ex-coworker would do any good.

Then he got emotionally attached. Illinois understood Yancy. The guilt. The nightmares. The overthinking. There was something oddly healing, in taking care of someone with the same struggles, he thought.

He had grown too afraid to tell Yancy because what if he left?

Illinois' whole family thought he was dead. He never interacted with anyone, except for clients. He had no one.

Yancy had become so much more than a way to redeem himself. He became a friend. Yancy had helped the mechanic heal, so much more than he'd ever know.

However, if you don't cut out an infection, it will only get worse. A small omission of facts, hovered and became more unstable by the day.

He had been fully aware of Yancy's hesitation and suspicion, but the risk of losing everything was too much.

Now, the hovering presence was gone. Now, he could breathe again.

Authors note: This section of the story took way longer than I thought it would, but it's okay, I kinda like how it turned out. Have a great day!