Nonconformity | Henry Creel

A Fall From Grace

"Not a big deal?" Peter echoed the words like he couldn't believe they fell from my lips, "He raised a hand to you. What if it were Six, hm? Tell me that if he slapped her, you wouldn't think it was a big deal."

I didn't say a word.

"That's what I thought."

"Don't waste your energy. Being angry won't make a difference. What's done is done, okay?" It seemed Peter was unyielding to good, plain common sense. There weren't enough words in the English language to dictate how awful McLaughlin's actions were, but even if I used every single one, it wouldn't change anything. Somehow, the orderly who had been here far, far longer than me didn't understand the helplessness of our situation. I envied his naivety.

"What then?" Peter took another step closer. His anger lingered in the air around him, and as I breathed it in, I could feel it becoming my anger, too. "You're going to let him get away with hurting you. Aren't you? Like you let Two and Four get away with it?"

"I didn't let them get away with anything," I could hardly believe the words exiting his lips. Didn't he know I hated this as much as he did? I still planned on hurting Two and Four, but I couldn't be reckless. I couldn't act on every passing spike of emotion. "I just..."

"You just... what?" He tilted his head, condescension practically dripping from the words.

"Peter, stop."

"Two and Four nearly killed you and I did nothing. For you, I did nothing... Do you know why I stopped visiting you in the hospital wing?" He asked rhetorically, "Because I couldn't stand to see you there, hardly able to move on your own, while Two and Four walked free. I won't make the same mistake with McLaughlin. I won't, Sixteen."

"So what? Hm? Are you gonna give him a stern slap on the wrist? Don't you realize there's nothing we can do? He's a fucking egomaniac, he's not going to listen to a word you say." I had to pause, take a deep breath, and gather my thoughts. "And the recovery wasn't all that pleasant for me, either. Of course I want to get even, Peter. More than anything, but it's not that simple. I can't make every decision based on what I want in a fleeting moment. If I want to get back at Two and Four, I'll have to think through every single second of every single action I make-- because, if I don't, people will suffer for it. Nine people are dead because of me. Six got her rib broken because of me." My stare burned into Peter's, "You got tased because of me. Don't you see the trend? I need to stop being the reason other people get hurt. So, yes. I suppose I am going to let McLaughlin get away with it. He'll end up dead if I try to do something about it... I don't have enough control over my abilities. Unless you think Papa would hold him accountable, but let's be honest about the chances of that."

Peter stared down at me. He opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, but he opted against it. His fire of rage slowly but surely burnt out, leaving nothing but embers alight in his eyes. His fingers were warm to the touch as they brushed against my arm. "Oh, Sixteen." The words were quiet, reserved only for me. It was the way he said my name that made my heart stop-- the way he curled the number into a caress, a melody.

"It seems I'll have to take the matter into my own hands. I'll make sure McLaughlin doesn't try anything again. How about you go get this--," he ran his thumb over my bleeding arm, barely touching the skin, "taken care of. Hm?"

"It's fine. Just leave it alone," I shook my head, "I don't want you getting punished for something that has nothing to do with you."

"I'll be punished regardless."

"Peter--."

"--Sixteen, it isn't up for debate. It's my job to look out for you, after all. Someone has to."