Peter held my forearm as though it were sand falling through his hands. Urgent, desperate fingers wrapped so tightly, I expected them to paint my skin black and blue. He didn't say a single word as he listlessly dragged me down hallway after hallway, staring into every camera with a hatred that was nearly palpable. He forced us to halt outside of a plain, unmarked training room and ushered me inside.
My weary limbs screamed in relief when I leaned against the tiled wall. It was cold to the touch, a loving embrace for my feverish skin. The re-opened wound on my arm wept crimson tears, staining the sleeve of my hospital gown. I couldn't be bothered to stop it.
Peter didn't glance at the camera in the corner of the room like he typically did. That's when I realized there wasn't one for him to glare at. Whatever was about to happen, he didn't want anyone to see it.
I barely restrained the urge to break down crying right then and there. Just when I thought things were getting better; just when I thought things could be okay. McLaughlin, his tasers, that poor cat. They showed up and made a mess of it all. I must've been an awful person before I lost my memories. Maybe I had this coming. The universe was punishing me for my past sins and laughing because I couldn't possibly redeem myself. How does one repent for a transgression they don't remember?
Of course I wouldn't cry, though. Not while Peter watched. I was humiliated enough as it was. With Two and Four's attack, with my failure to defend myself from McLaughlin, I didn't need to make a fool of myself in front of Peter, too.
"No cameras," My laugh was strained. I was on the verge of tears, begging myself to just hold it together long enough to make it back to my room, "Perfect time for you to kill me."
His eyes narrowed. Apparently he didn't find my joke very funny.
Silence followed. It seemed Peter was more perturbed than I was. Strands of vanilla colored hair fell onto his face, but he didn't seem to notice, too focused on glaring at me. Unabating blue eyes greedily watched my every movement. Each twitch of my finger, each rise and fall of my chest. I squirmed beneath his unrelenting stare.
"Maybe I should just go to the nurse?" I suggested after a few more moments passed, "You probably have, you know, orderly shit to do--."
"--What did he do?" I was taken aback by the anger in his voice. No, no, it was more than anger. It was hatred. Burning hot and simmering off of him in slow, rolling waves. If he was an angel, then he had fallen from grace.
I sighed, "You saw, Peter, didn't you? He tased me."
"Don't be coy, Sixteen. What else did he do?"
"It doesn't matter," I shrugged, "It's nothing Papa wouldn't do."
"That's not an answer," He spat. I couldn't shake the suffocating feeling that I was cornered as he took slow, careful steps towards me. "Look at you. You're bruised, you're bleeding. Tasers don't inflict such wounds."
"Do we really have to get into the gory details?" I tried to cross my arms, but a biting pain shot through my ripped open stitches. Peter's stare didn't relent, as though he were trying to coax an answer out of me with looks alone. I could feel the pressure of his eyes boring into my brain, pushing on my temples, crushing my skull in. "Fuck, fine, stop glaring at me. He had me pet a cat and it scratched me." I showed him the claw mark on my thumb, "See? It's fine. I'm fine."
"What else?"
"He didn't do anything else."
"Clearly he did."
"You're being unreasonable."
"What else, Sixteen?"
Irritation curled in my gut. It's like he wanted me to be mad at him. "He slapped me, Peter. Is that what you want to hear? Are you satisfied?" I returned his glare with equal intensity, "You and I both know nothing is gonna come of this. Papa would've done the exact same given the chance, so why would he punish McLaughlin for it? I've dealt with worse. It's not a big deal."
"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."
Two days passed.
To my intense displeasure, I spent them in the hospital wing. Gloria added extra stitches this time, along with a few more bandages. She certainly wasn't happy with me when I showed up bloody and beaten. The lecture she gave was certainly one for the ages. After she was finished, she helped patch me up like she had a million times before, smiling and chatting with me the whole time. Gloria wasn't very good at staying angry.
A combination of pain meds and benzodiazepine made the time pass in a blurry, half-conscious haze. Peter didn't come to visit me in my dreams or in reality, which I suppose was a blessing. I kept on having to remind myself I was mad at him, that he ratted me out.
Around midday, I was summoned to Papa's office.
I practically screamed at the opportunity to stretch my forever-aching limbs. No guard came to accompany me on my walk, the air conditioning wasn't too loud, and my head didn't hurt too bad, either. I navigated the hallways with a smile on my face, running my fingers along the indents in the tile.
Where any other person would be grateful for the positive respite, it made me nervous. Whenever things started to get better, it was just a precursor to some awful occurrence that was sure to follow. For example, I remember being so, incredibly glad when I found my tape, only for Peter to come and take it from me. Then I tried my first soda with Six and promptly got beaten the fuck up. Every time my life went well, I knew it wouldn't last long. No doubt something terrible would ensue and make me feel foolish for ever being optimistic in the first place.
Or maybe I was just paranoid.
My brain insisted on going into crisis mode at every single minor inconvenience. It was exhausting to be so on edge, to have my nerves so jangled at all times. I yearned for that version of me who had just arrived at the lab. She was frightened, sure, but she wasn't driving herself mad asking questions she couldn't possibly answer. Getting herself into ridiculous, avoidable situations. She wasn't spineless for some random man with a stupid, white suit.
I missed her.
One by one, the lights ahead of me shut off. I frowned once the hallway became bathed in darkness, pointlessly searching for the culprit. Sometimes, when my emotions became too strong, the lights would flicker on and off. This wasn't me, though. My abilities rested comfortably in my veins like a small, insignificant weight. A constant reminder that they existed. They hadn't stirred a bit.
This wasn't me.
The air conditioning wheezed and coughed until it, too, shut down. The silence was all encompassing as I stood in the empty hallway. I didn't know whether to make my way to Papa's office or just sit there and wait for the power to return. Even the cameras were clicked off, their red, watching eyes gone dim.
There was a clatter, a whispered curse, and then someone turned the corner. Papa. Somehow, I could sense him from the complete other end of the hall. Was that extrasensory perception? I sighed. Sometimes I felt like I didn't understand my abilities at all.
"Papa?" I called, voice especially loud without the a/c to drown it out, "Is that you?"
"Sixteen," He answered, and then his footsteps inched closer to me. I almost screamed when his hand unexpectedly wrapped around my shoulder, "There must be an issue with the breaker. Why don't we go back to my office? I think I have some flashlights in my desk."
I nodded stupidly before remembering the lights were out and he couldn't see. "Alright, sounds good."
We stumbled our way through the blackness until we arrived at the dark, wooden door of Papa's office. He must've had a flood light of some sort. Something dim and blue shined out into the hallway, barely illuminating the tiled wall. His door creaked noisily as Papa pushed it open. The sound of metal scraping against metal echoed through the vacant halls, striking an unsettling cord within me.
I was more than glad to follow Papa into his office, arching my body away from the darkness on the other side of the door. I couldn't see him, but I could hear him as he rounded his desk. A metallic clang filled the room as he shuffled through one of the drawers. "Aha," He exclaimed, and then a click sounded. The flashlight shuddered before it turned on.
Just as he moved to hand me a flashlight of my own, the air conditioning overhead gave a deep, guttural groan. The sounds of machines firing up echoed all around until I could feel cool air blowing against my skin. The lights in Papa's office turned on, fighting off the darkness until it was rendered obsolete. I squeezed my eyes shut against the harsh whiteness that filled the room without warning.
"Would you look at that," Papa's voice hummed, "It seems we won't be needing these after all." Another click sounded as he turned off the flashlight and put it in his desk. Slowly, I opened my eyes.
"Huh," I muttered, glancing around the room in its entirety. The camera's lens was once again dotted with red. "I wonder what that was about."
"It's probably nothing. The lab is a massive building and it requires an abundance of electricity. The power is bound to go out from time to time," He took a seat in his chair and gestured to the one in front of him. That's how it always was with Papa; business as usual.
Once I was sitting, he rolled back his shoulders. The signature smile disappeared. He frowned, and something more severe filled his wrinkled face. I immediately knew the meaning behind this ad hoc meeting. "I've received some troubling news, Sixteen. No doubt you know what it's about."
I nodded.
"Care to tell me what happened between McLaughlin and yourself?" He asked, voice stern as ever.
I adjusted uncomfortably in my chair. Peter must've reported the incident. 'I'll take care of it' he said, 'I'll take matters into my own hand.' God, if I knew this is what he planned on doing I would've just told Papa myself. At least then I'd know what I was walking into.
"I don't think McLaughlin likes me very much," I began, "He was sort of angry at me off the bat for being late. I tried to explain my injury but he just said it was an excuse... Uh, I'm sorry the details are a little fuzzy." That was a lie. The details were so clear I could've recited the entire exchange word for word, second for second. I just didn't want to have to go into detail-- again-- about how I bickered with an old man and then he slapped me for it. It was humiliating, having to submit to McLaughlin, and I certainly wasn't eager to relive it.
"That's alright," Papa reached forward and placed his hand on mine, a gesture that was surely meant to bring me comfort. It did the exact opposite, however, as I fought with all my might not to curl away in disgust. "Tell me what you can. You're not in trouble, Daughter, I just want to understand what happened."
I smiled a soft, gentle smile and prayed it didn't look like a wince. "I know, don't worry." I cleared my throat, "After that we sat down and he brought out a little cat. He tried to get me to pet it but it scratched me. I didn't want to, but he made me try to pet it over and over even though it clearly didn't want me to."
I showed him the scratches on my hand. He was stone cold, silent, but I didn't miss the angry twitch of his eye. That was the thing about Papa I never quite understood. Where he was cruel, he was also confoundingly kind. Admittedly, I was a stubborn piece of shit and if I were him, I'd resent me. For some reason he didn't, though. The man genuinely cared for each of the patients in his own deranged, diseased way. That was also what made him so frightening. He knew us, maybe he even loved us, and yet he wouldn't hesitate to wreck our insides with electricity and exploit us for all we were worth. He had us call him 'Papa.' I wondered, if I had a father in the outside world, was he the same way?
If so, then I couldn't help but think that maybe I was better off without one.
"Please continue, Sixteen," His coaxing words pulled me from my thoughts. I took a deep breath.
"Uh, yes, sorry. So he had me pet the cat and it eventually warmed up to me. Then, he asked me to kill it. I said no and he had the orderlies tase me," I rushed through the last half of the sentence before I could convince myself not to say it. "It's all sort of a blur."
Papa blinked. Once, twice. "And you didn't do anything to... insight... such a punishment?"
My freehand clenched into a fist. "I don't think so, no."
"Well then," He cleared his throat and sat up straight in his chair, "It's clear to me that I was misguided in allowing McLaughlin a place in your program. Such depravity is unacceptable, especially without proper cause or permission from myself. I'll see to it that McLaughlin is removed as soon as possible."
I nodded.
"Truly, I am sorry," He frowned.
"It's alright, you didn't do anything wrong," I tried to ask my next question as casually as possible, "Who, uh, reported the incident? Was it Peter?"
"Yes, it was," Papa said, "He and I agreed that immediate action had to be taken. McLaughlin will likely be relocated in a week's time. You won't see him again, Daughter."
"And the cat?"
Papa raised an eyebrow, "The cat?"
"The cat that McLaughlin tried to get me to kill," I elaborated, "I think he was mistreating it. Its fur was all matted and it was really jumpy. Do you think you could, uh, make sure it's okay? Make sure he doesn't take it with him?"
Papa's eyes softened, "I'll see what I can do--." He was cut off by three sharp raps on the door. Our conversation came to a halt as I turned in my chair to get a better look at the source of the noise.
"Come in," Papa called.
Two guards came in, pale as ghosts. The man on the left looked as though he were about to faint. Both of their uniforms were ruffled, one of which had a dark stain across the chest and arms. A few moments of silence passed, broken only by the guards' heavy breathing and the air conditioner above. No one moved.
"Well? What is it?" Papa asked, voice brimming with both confusion and worry. With the looks on their faces, I was worried too.
"A body was found in G wing with their throat slashed," The shorter one on the right started. His eyes were so, incredibly wide, it almost looked bizarre. There was a tremor in his voice as though it hurt just to expel the words from his lips.
"It was Vincent McLaughlin's."
HI!!! omg omg omg okay so the next 4-5 chapters have LOTS of Peter and sixteen stuff. THERE. IS. GOING. TO. BE. SMUT!!! AHHHHHHH I've actually never written smut before so I don't know how this will go. ALSO. THERE WILL BE NO MENTIONING OF MEMBER OR 'CORE.' I fucking hate those words and I would rather get fucking curb stomped than use them.
ALSO! sixteen is going start trying to uncover 001's past, so you can look forward to that!
Also. I love Taylor swift. everything she does is perfect.
OKAY! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED !!!
Please comment if you enjoy!! :))