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The puzzle pieces slowly started to fit together in Yancy's mind. It was beginning to seem like Illinois and Ben weren't too different, after all. They thought they would be doing good.
"Yeah... him. Doctor Xander Pitch-Markova.... It all looked so promising. I did research, and all I could find was that he was super good at what he did, and he used to be in the military... I knew a lot of veterans had lost their limbs, so I had even hoped he had a similar motivation ... So I instantly said yes"
Illinois' voice was dripping with defeat. It was quiet, and wavering. Overflowed with regret.
"They showed me the facility. Things started out tame enough. And he seemed decent enough. Pitch got things done. He was a hard worker, and I admired that. I saw him do cold stuff sometimes, but dismissed it. He'd snap at someone, and I'd figure he had a rough day, as most people do. In the break room when people talked about him being rude or something, I would defend him"
Disgust laced in with his words, becoming more apparent, and making the words come across as more angry. Yancy that tone, because he had used it many times before. The anger that coats shame.
He could hear Illinois pause, to recenter the topic, and take a breath.
" I said he was just busy, or just didn't bother with sugar coating, and how that didn't mean he was rude. I couldn't see how anyone working on this project with me could be bad..." Illinois continued, now softer.
"He told me what was needed to connect the mechanics to the nerves. How accurate the limbs had to be, so the brain knew how to move it, how deep the connections had to go... Then he started discussing... other uses. And then the terminology changed. Words like 'Volunteer' changed to 'Subjects'. And then he started giving me things to 'fix'
"I started realizing they were weaponizing my designs. There was no good reason for the metal to be bulletproof, or for a finger to hold a switchblade. I finally caught wind of the full plan. Experiment on people with no one. People who they deem disposable. So they could use what I intended to be used for healing, for war."
Yancy ran his human hand along the cold, dark metal. Pitches words echoed in his mind. Less than a lab rat...
"Pitch had hijacked the whole thing. My life's work was being twisted and stolen from me, by the man I idolized for years. I never found out his motive, but I'd imagine his experience downrange did the opposite of what I thought it did. I think instead of seeing the healing potential, he saw how it could help in the war zone. It became less about helping people, and more about victories... I don't know, it hardly makes sense, but I think his mind is severely twisted. He laser focuses on things, forgetting about everything around him. I tried to talk to him, but soon I saw no amount of reasoning would work. So I'd have to play dirty.
"I made a computer chip that gave me full access to their systems, and planted it in the security room one day. A few weeks later, I took some vacation days. I went to Switzerland, went up into the mountains and just made it look like I never came back. I left a torn hat as 'evidence' that I had died, in a forested area, but I'm not even sure if they found that. I hitchhiked, and found a little place to stake out for a bit. I've been a survival enthusiast since I was a kid, so it wasn't too hard for me to survive. After I was sure everyone thought I was dead, I got a fake identity, and came back to America with some under the counter cash"
The idea of surviving, off all grids, alone, scared Yancy. He remembered when he first got out, how he thought he would have to do that. Illinois actually had done that.
Yancy couldn't help but feel gratitude for Illinois bubble in his chest again. Illinois may have been a survival enthusiast, but Yancy really wouldn't have lasted long.
"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!