Thank you to _sleepy.moth_ on Instagram for the art!!
Tomorrow. If the group was right about it being an MIC, connected straight to the hacker's device, there was a chance they could catch the fugitive.
Tomorrow.
Doctor Pitch was eager to get all this behind him. Bring Daniel Jones in, do a few brief tests, and then he can be executed. Usually the executions were just procedure. Pitch felt nothing about them.
However, this had grown personal. This criminals escape had caused many to doubt the program and even Pitch himself.
This execution would feel different from the others. It was more than the experiments. It was more than the war. It was more than the facility.
Daniel Jones was tearing apart the Doctor's reputation with every passing hour, and Pitch wanted him dead for it.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow he could start mending his pride, and if all went well, in a few short days Daniel Jones would be dead.
-
Yancy slept better than he had in a while. After their walk in the woods, they had worked on the puzzle some more, had dinner, then went to bed.
It was such a perfectly normal day, and that night when he lay down in the perfectly normal bed, in a perfectly normal bedroom, he didn't feel an overwhelming sense of not belonging. Sleep came easily that night.
The next morning, he woke up to the same smells of breakfast he had woken up to for the past week or so. Yancy had plans to clean while Illinois was at work, as a thank you. The house wasn't messy, but there were a few things he could do here and there, like sweeping, moping, wiping down slightly dusty surfaces.
It wasn't much, but it was something.
He changed and headed out into the kitchen, where Illinois was making breakfast burritos.
The mechanic looked over and smiled, "Good mornin' Yance. I got work again today, but I was thinking afterwards you could show me a few musicals? I got some streaming services, but I've never actually sat down and watched a musical before. I think it could be fun."
Yancy took a plate and nodded, a little surprised that Illinois was interested, but also pretty happy and excited, "Yeah, that sounds fun. Keep in mind, it's been a bit, but I'd love to show youse my old favorites"
"Great" Illinois said, putting his own breakfast burrito on a paper plate so he could take it on the go. "I can't wait to see what's so great about musicals" his tone was friendly and teasing, as if they had known each other for years.
Yancy was starting to think they might as well have. Illinois was risking his life for Yancy. They've hidden from a fully armed squad together. Yancy let Illinois into his mechanics, and Illinois let Yancy into his home. Wouldn't that friendship be just as valid as any years old friendship?
"See you later, Yance" Illinois said with a wave, before heading out the door.
The cabin was quiet, with only the sounds of the AC, some of the chirps from outside leaking in, and the soft gliding of his mechanical joints as he went to the table and sat down.
Not everything was completely calm, of course. Taking down the facility was constantly on his mind. Was he capable? Would they just catch him again? Would they catch him even before then?
However, these anxieties were slowly becoming manageable. Less overwhelming, and more of a simple thing in the back of his mind. He wasn't alone in all this. He didn't have to figure it all out right now and on his own.
After he finished his food, he took a shower, then got started on doing his best to help out.
He swept, vacuumed, mopped, took care of the dishes, etc. To be honest, he loved it. It was nothing close to what Illinois had done for him, but it made his feel useful. Maybe it was even a bit more to calm Yancys mind then for Illinois. If that was the goal, it was working.
Yancy sat on the floor in front of the sink, and looked through the cleaning supplies to see what would be best for his next task. He wanted to wipe down the counters, which weren't too bad, but had a few stains.
As he reached in for a spray bottle near the back, he saw something a little odd. There was a groove, along the bottom of the cabinet, in the shape of a small square. A small 6 by 6 area, where the wood didn't quite match up. A slightly different shade. Not exactly aligned.
He frowned and brushed his human hand over it. It opened, he realized.
He pulled his hand back, staring at it. It was hiding something. He shook his head, trying to snap himself out of it. Not this again. He didn't want to overthink everything again. He was tired of that. Despite his better judgement, he tried to open it.
The square didn't come loose at first, but after a moment he got his nails under it, and was able to pull it up.
Underneath was a small area, just a few inches deep. It held a key. Nothing else. Just one small key. Yancy quickly took it and shoved it in his pocket, before putting the square of wood back over the area.
What was this key for? Why was it so hidden? What was Illinois hiding?
He had so hoped he didn't have to ask this question anymore. He had just broken free from this vicious, overwhelming anxiety that Illinois was going to hurt him.
The fact that he was hiding something was undeniable, though. Yancy got up and took a breath, trying to calm himself. He would just have to go find what he was hiding. Simple. He would find out, and hopefully be able to put this whole thing to rest once and for all.
Over the next few hours, Yancy searched every nook and cranny of that house for anything that could need a key. He even looked through Illinois' room, with the monitors displaying some security footage from in the facility. But there was nothing. Everything that could be locked was unlocked.
Finally, Yancy headed out to the shed, where Illinois had all his tools. On the floor, there was still the crushed tracker, just under the work bench now. It was probably kicked out of the way while Illinois was working.
Yancy poked around for a while, when he spotted something behind a shelf.
A padlock, on a discrete door.
He realized he was shaking. What was behind that door? Everything had been so good, so was it even worth looking behind it?
Ignorance is bliss. Maybe he should just put the key back, and pretend like he knew nothing... but he knew he had gone too far. He would be too anxious to hide if he just left it.
He took a deep breath, before carefully moving the shelf. It was probably nothing to worry about. It could even just be some emergency supplies, or where he keeps his valuables.
Yancy was a criminal after all. Maybe it was just to make sure he didn't steal anything? Yancy could understand that. If that was the case, he could put his worries to rest, lock it back up, and put the key back. Easy.
Everything could be fine
After he got the shelf out of the way, and unlocked the padlock, not allowing himself anymore hesitation.
Behind the door, there was a smaller workshop area. It was dark, but after a moment, Yancys robotic eye was able to pick up on his surroundings just fine.
He wished it hadn't.
On the table there was a robotic limb, very similar to Yancys. In a box there was a robotic foot. On a shelf, a few miscellaneous pieces Yancy saw were very similar to his own robotics. The joints in his fingers. Panels. A pale orb, that Yancy assumed was an eye like his.
He picked up the foot in his shaking human hand. It wasn't as dark as his own metal, and felt like a weaker material. But otherwise, it was pretty much like his own.
It made him feel sick. Why did Illinois have this? He had the blueprints, so it would be possible to make it... but why?
A dizzy feeling overtook him, but he shook it off. He couldn't pass out. Not here. Not Now.
There was a box of papers by the shelf that he could look through while sitting, so he didn't pass out.
Yancy took a seat, and took some papers out of the box, and looked through them quickly. His hand was now shaking so bad, it was difficult to read the paper.
One caught his eye. He took it carefully, and stared at the words on the page.
'Bionic Prosthetic Project Proposal'
'By: Illinois Arch'
Fear overtook Yancy. His blood ran cold, and his stomach dropped.
It was Illinois. This whole project was Illinois. He shuffled though some other papers and found several essay looking ones, often claiming to be by 'Head Doctor, Xander Pitch-Markova and Head Engineer, Illinois Arch'.
He got up and stepped away from the papers as if they had burnt him.
These limbs forced on him. Illinois came up with them. It looked like he made and designed them too.
The man who had comforted Yancy. Gave him a place to stay. Helped him find closure in Ben's death. Talked him though nightmares, but all along... was he the puppet master of it all? Was this more than a war? Was it some sick game to him?
In the lab, he felt like he was surrounded by vultures. But now, he felt like a mouse, being hunted by an all too sadistic cat.
He had nowhere to go, but he couldn't stay here. It wasn't safe. He wasn't safe.
Yancy quickly stuffed the papers in the box and turned to the door, ready to run as far as he could. To be anywhere but here, but he couldn't.
Because Illinois was standing in the doorway.
Authors Note: I have to go on an unexpected hiatus. I am SUPER sorry, I intended on writing and putting out the next chapter in two weeks, especially since I am aware this is a major cliffhanger/ plot twist.
There's this camp for kids with cancer, they were looking for people, and I ended up volunteering. It sounds like internet isn't great up there, but I'll still write, and hopefully have an update when I come back. I'm thinking the 2nd of July, should be my next update.
Once again, super sorry!
Thank you for your support so far, and stay safe!