GUYS AHHHHH
this chapter is low-key cute af im gonna cry
BTW THIS IS PETERS POV
The silence was all encompassing.
Henry practically had to pry Sixteen away from the door. She cursed and threatened him with all manners of vulgar language, until she eventually tired herself out and collapsed on her bed. For a long while she sat there, soundless, gaze on her lap. The quiet was broken only by her intermittent muttering. Henry watched her wordlessly, eyes catching on every twitch of her hand, every shuddering breath in a futile attempt to see inside her mind. As nonchalantly as possible he stood in front of the door, creating a buffer between Sixteen and the exit should she prove herself less... agreeable. Though, truth be told she wasn't incredibly agreeable to begin with. The crest-shaped cuts on her palms reopened soon after she sat down. Part of Henry wanted to walk up to Sixteen, take her hands in his until she had no choice but to stop cutting into her own skin.
The other part was fascinated.
He dreamt of this moment for a long, long while. Dreamt of confessing his truth with a sugar-coated tongue. It would be a saccharine type of lie, easy to swallow, sweet enough for her to believe but not so sweet that it became cloying. He would paint himself as a valiant nonconformist, victimized and beaten down by Papa. 'Oh, it was terrible' he'd say, 'that's why you can't trust anyone else here. That's why we have to leave.'
Henry had grown accustomed to predictability. Having no choice but to sit and observe for the past decade, he learned to notice patterns. Everything and everyone had a tell. Whether it was rosed cheeks, avoidance of eye contact, or something as obvious as a stutter, Henry knew exactly what someone was thinking just by looking at them. That particular tool was quite helpful when it came to anticipating people like Brenner, but it also meant everyday interactions were predictable. Boring.
Sixteen was a welcome respite from the tedious monotony that was his everyday life. There was no telling what she would do next, a fact which deeply unsettled and invigorated Henry at the same time. And despite all of that, he still couldn't shake that particularly destructive habit of underestimating her. He knew she was powerful beyond words and much too smart for her own good, but her tenacity was unexpected. He wouldn't have ever anticipated something like this.
He almost laughed as he watched her. Sixteen sat with sloppy posture and ever-fidgeting hands, the very picture of unassuming. If he didn't know her so well, he would go as far as to call the girl meager. He'd learned his lesson, though. He knew better. Beneath enchanting features and a lovely smile, she was a viper. Coiled up, fangs dripping venom like acid rain, prepared to bite at any sudden movement. If he was smart, he would've cut off her head by now.
Oh, god, but it was all so exhilarating. Never in a million years would he expect her to be so conniving. Breaking into his head-- it was a stimulating sort of betrayal, one he probably should've been more upset about, but he just couldn't bring himself to be angry. After all, he was finally being rivaled, offered a real, genuine problem that he hadn't predicted beforehand. How unprepared he was, how electrified. If he weren't trying to maintain his composure, he'd be grinning ear to ear and showering Sixteen with praise. What a force she was. What a gift. For once in his life, Henry could almost call himself blessed.
"I knew it," Sixteen's voice pulled Henry from his thoughts. Her eyes didn't meet his as she shook her head and muttered, "The dreams. They were you, weren't they?"
Henry faltered for a moment. He supposed he could grace her with at least one truth, "Most of them, yes. Look at you catching on so quickly."
"I knew it... Well, I mean, I didn't 'know it' but I had a feeling." She spat out the words like they'd been burning her tongue. "And then I talked myself out of it because I thought it was insane. How could boring, dull Peter get into my dreams? Honestly, I'm impressed, who knew you were capable of tricking me not once, but twice?"
Henry's stomach sank with an unfamiliar feeling. Her words were spoken with so much conviction it almost stung. He'd never been incredibly sensitive, but somehow judgement from her held a new type of import. Just those few words elicited a discomfort that Brenner's lectures never could, even after a decade of being subjected to them.
"It was never my goal to trick you, Sixteen."
"No?" She finally met his eyes, "Then how did we get here? I can understand why you kept being Number One to yourself. Hell, I'm not even angry about it. It's the fact that you used my lack of knowledge for your own ends. The dreams were to... what? Manipulate me into liking you? What did you hope to accomplish?"
"No, Sixteen. You're far too smart to be manipulated," Henry took a few careful steps closer. He knew how Sixteen worked, he knew her weaknesses. If he could just get close enough, he could melt her like some blazing inferno. Her mind would turn slow and liquid just for him, and then he would whisper whatever pretty words he wanted to make her fall into him again. That's not to say his flattery was devoid of truth, though. Most of the time it was just a matter of putting his preconceived thoughts into words.
And he was being entirely truthful when he uttered the words, "The first time I visited you in your dreams there were no ulterior motives. You just... caught my attention. You have power, Sixteen. Genuine power that I haven't seen in a long time." He took another step forward. Her gaze narrowed but before she could say anything, he continued, "I visited you because I was intrigued. Touching you like that was never part of my plan."
"You can't seriously expect me to believe that," her eyes hardened even more, if that was possible. "Why would you continue to visit me afterwards, anyway? I just don't understand the motive for any of this."
"Is it truly so hard to believe I enjoy your company?" He frowned, "You really should give yourself more credit."
Her head fell into her hands and a twinge of guilt shot through Henry. She looked so defeated. "And all those times you used the same words that you used in my dreams... Was that purposeful, too? You wanted to toy with me?"
His guilt was fleeting, disappearing as quickly as a breath of air in freezing cold weather. It was a relief that Sixteen couldn't see him then. Henry couldn't even try to prevent the grin that came upon his face. She was right, of course. He loved to watch her falter. How could he not? It was a precious sight, the way her muscles tensed and her breathing halted when she recalled the moments they shared in her sleep. She could be quite skilled at hiding her emotions when she tried, but when he got her flustered it was impossible for her to keep herself together. So he'd push and he'd push, using the same phrases as much as he could without seeming too suspicious. Just enough for her to wonder. To drive herself crazy with 'what-ifs.'
Henry loved to watch that brilliant mind of hers whir. He just couldn't help himself.
Though, it seemed he pushed her too far this time.
"No, it wasn't purposeful," His tone was tooth-achingly earnest as the lie fell from his lips. "Can I ask you a question?"
She scoffed.
He took that as a yes. "How did you manage to get into my head?"
"I drugged you." There was no hesitance to the words, no attempt to justify her actions. She met his eyes without a hint of remorse, stoic as ever. A shocked sort of laugh fell from Henry's mouth.
"You drugged me," He repeated, disbelief twisting up his face, "Oh, my. It seems I'm not the only deceitful one, am I?"
"I made you sleep longer," She replied, "You lied to me about your identity for five months, toyed with me, and fabricated our entire relationship for a reason I still don't understand. I'd say my deceit is on a very, very different level than yours."
His lips pressed into a line. Perhaps getting her back on his side wouldn't be so simple this time around. Everything she said was true, of course, but that didn't mean he was willing to let her know that. There were still so many pieces of the story missing-- pieces that he could warp and manipulate until she understood why he did what he did.
Although he couldn't be honest now, Henry really did plan on telling Sixteen the truth one day. About his family, about the lab, about his desire for a world where they could flourish. Before knowing her, he thought he would be alone in that world, sitting atop a throne built from the desecrated remains of civilization. But now he had Sixteen to consider. And oh, how glad he was, to have someone as powerful as her by his side. One day they would live unbound by trivial human conventions, great parriarchs of a society built upon their backs.
She'd be worshiped.
Of course, no one would ever be capable of worshipping her quite as much he did, but he'd certainly let them try.
The two of them just had to get out of the woods, first. Afterwards, Sixteen would need some... gentle guidance, but she'd see things as he did eventually. The world had to be fixed, and only deities like them could provide the proper rehabilitation.
Henry was convinced, without a shadow of a doubt, that all of their qualms would be eased in due time. With a renewed sense of purpose, he closed off the distance between himself and Sixteen, finding his place beside her on the bed.
She flinched at the suddenness of his movements. Henry's heart sank... Maybe winning her trust wouldn't be as easy as he thought.
The entire situation gave him a headache.
"Are you just gonna stay quiet?" She asked, pulling him from his thoughts. "You're not even going to try and deny it, Peter? Or One, or whatever the fuck--."
"--Henry. I want you to call me Henry," Came his firm response. "And no, I'm not going to deny it. That would be an exercise in futility, Sixteen, wouldn't you agree? I lied to you and that was wrong of me, but I can be honest now. I'll tell you everything."
"I can't trust you not to lie to me again and I don't..." The words fell into an uncertain silence. Her gaze fell to the bloodied palms of her hands. "This is just really disappointing."
"I know." Henry's thoughts made no real sense. He wanted to steal away every ounce of sadness from her, take it on himself even if it meant he would buckle beneath the weight. Then again, he had to lie to her. There was no other choice.
"How can I know this isn't all some test from Papa?" She narrowed her eyes, "How do I know you haven't been working with him this whole time? Is this another trick, Peter?" Confusion and paranoia made her mind run wild with all sorts of baseless theories and explanations for what she'd seen.
"No, no, no," Henry moved from his seat, knees colliding with the hard ground in front of her. He shook his head, repeating the word 'no' over and over as he took her hands in his. "No more tricks," He swore, tilting his head up to meet her eyes. "I'm not working with him. I wouldn't. Can't you see? I'm all yours, Sixteen, there isn't anybody else."
She stared down at him, lips separated ever so slightly. She sucked in sharp, shallow breaths which heated Henry's skin. He could see the conflict in her eyes as clear as day, a silent battle waged only for him. He opened his mouth, having half a mind to tell Sixteen how bewitching she looked in that moment.
"Promise?" She breathed.
"Promise."
"Okay then," She sunk to the floor beside him, maintaining eye contact the entire way down. There was still so much hesitance in the way she regarded him. Perhaps Sixteen had calmed down, but splinters of fear still lingered inside of her. "So you'll answer any question I ask you?"
"Within reason, yes."
"Okay," She muttered, eyes falling to the floor. "I saw your mom in your head. Or, I'm assuming she was your mom. She had blonde hair and blue eyes like yours. And she, uh, she slapped you. Did she do that often?"
Henry's eyes sparkled. Sixteen was more concerned about his mother slapping him than his mutilation of a bunny. It didn't take him long to realize the game she was playing. She wanted to know why he was the way he was-- maybe all his scheming could be traced back to his childhood. Even after all she had seen, she was searching for a reason to defend him.
Henry's heart warmed. To say he adored her would be an understatement.
"Only when she was angry," He replied, lips captured in a faux frown, "It wasn't a frequent occurrence and it was never all that hard, either."
She shook her head, "That doesn't make it right, though... Who is Alice?"
"She was my sister," Henry replied.
He didn't quite remember killing her. The night he laid his mother and sister to rest blurred together over the years, infected with growing vagueness. He was never particularly close with Alice, nor did he feel a great deal of fondness for her. She could be quite annoying, if he recalled correctly. Like a gnat incessantly buzzing around his head, he had no reservations about crushing her once the time came.
"Was?" Sixteen questioned.
"She died," Henry elaborated, "As did my mother a few nights before I first met 'Papa'. For months prior, my parents began to notice my abilities affecting our home, so they called an expert. Of course, my father didn't think I was behind any of it, but my mother knew otherwise... Their fates were sealed as soon as the call to Brenner was made."
"He killed them?" Her eyes went wide. Henry offered her a single nod of his head, averting his gaze. Like a dog led on a leash, she felt exactly what he wanted her to feel. Guilt for making him recount the story, anger for what 'Brenner' had done. Her empathy would be her undoing if she wasn't careful. One day, he'd help her overcome that, too.
"Oh, my god," Instinctually, she reached froward, taking his hand in hers. Her skin was soft against his and intimate beyond words. Sixteen's eyes went wide at her own actions. She knew she should've been angry at him in that moment, that she shouldn't cave so easily, but here Henry was. So fragmented in front of her, she couldn't help but to try and piece him back together. "I don't know what to say. I'm just so sorry. That's... awful."
His lip twitched into a weak smile, "Yes, well, what's done is done. Time makes things like this easier, and I've had a decade of it."
She shook her head, having no idea how else to respond. Eventually, she asked "Your abilities... were they strong?"
"Stronger than your siblings', yes," He answered, "And nearly as strong as yours. Why?"
"Well, don't you want Papa dead?" She inched closer, "Don't you hate him? If we're equally powerful, then you know how easy it would be to kill him. All you have to do is... focus."
Her tone dipped low as her words took a darker, more calamitous turn. Henry watched Sixteen, utterly enraptured. This was the side of her that eluded and interested him most. Henry knew she had it within herself to be cruel. How could he forget the shape Two had been in after her attack? Beaten and bloodied with a knife composed of glass buried into his side. And despite all that, Two never uttered a word about who had attacked him. How had Sixteen managed to frighten him that badly? What else had she done?
Sixteen was a queen in her own right, but if he pressed all the right spots, he was certain she could become a God. She just needed a little coaching and some concentrated fury. Henry doted on that thought, nurturing it with all the sweet-tempered care he could manage. She just had to surrender a few selective parts of herself for him, and then she'd be perfect.
The thought filled him with a kind of euphoria he couldn't possibly describe.
"Of course I want him dead," He muttered. The words cut like a knife through the silence, ricochetting off the walls and shooting right back at them. "But he had ways of keeping me in line when I was younger. I'm no stranger to punishments, as you well know, but his manipulations went far beyond the physical. Or, at least they used to."
Sixteen winced at the implication, "So he tricked you into loving him. You were in a vulnerable spot after your mother and sister died and he exploited that. Is that it?"
"Partly, yes." Henry replied, "But he knew I had a difficult time getting close to others, so he developed a few different options aside from punishments. Conditions in the lab have never been particularly humane for patients, Sixteen, but they were far worse when I was little. If I misbehaved, I'd be locked in my room. Sometimes only for a few hours, but other times it could be days. However long Brenner saw fit."
"My god," A mixture of horror and disgust mixed up Sixteen's face, "So he'd leave you in there with nothing?" Henry nodded.
"And then I grew up and keeping me in line wasn't so simple anymore," He explained, "I tried to escape... a lot. Just like you, I killed my fair share of guards. Sometimes it was accidental, other times not so much. Regulating my emotions was never difficult, but keeping my abilities in check was a challenge. They tended to overwhelm me. Eventually, Brenner got tired of my insubordination and took them away entirely."
Sixteens's eyes went wide. The light over her head flickered. "He can do that?"
"Unfortunately, yes." Henry watched a new brand of panic seep into her eyes. "Don't be frightened, Sixteen. You're the last person he would chip. He flourishes when he has powers like yours under his belt, he wouldn't throw that away. It's the only thing that gives his tedious life any purpose."
"No, you don't understand," her voice was quiet and her eyes were unfocused. He could practically see the gears in her mind moving faster and faster. Machinery whirring as though it had encountered something especially ponderous.
She stood from her spot on the ground and began pacing. Her feet padded quietly on the floor as she walked five steps in one direction, turned, and then walked five in the other. There was a slight limp impeding upon her movements, likely a result of the night's more physical demands. Despite himself, Henry grinned.
He stayed quiet for a short while, unsure of how to respond to her manic change in attitude. Eventually, his brows knitted together and he asked, "Why don't you sit down and tell me what's bothering you, Sweetheart. Hm?"
"I just--," She didn't look in his direction, "--I mean, Papa called me into his office yesterday. I thought he was just gonna talk to me about challenging his authority in front of the other kids, you know? Because how dare I have a mind of my own. But then he told me it was the last straw and he had something other than a punishment in mind. With everything that's been happening I kind of forgot about it, but he said I had seven more days until some procedure."
Henry's heart dropped. "Procedure?"
"Yeah. He told me that I was a threat to you, Six, Gloria, and basically everyone else here. Of course, I didn't wanna hurt anyone, so I kind of figured it would be for the best. He told me he was gonna put a chip in my neck to reduce my powers and keep me in line," She stopped walking and turned to Henry, "Oh, my god, he's gonna take away my abilities entirely, isn't he? Oh, fuck. I can't stay here my whole life. Can you talk him out of it, Henry? Please?"
He didn't even have time to bask in finally hearing Sixteen call him by the correct name. It sounded just as lovely as he always imagined it would, like liquid diamonds pouring into his ears, turning his mind to crystal. But it shattered into a million pieces as soon as the realization dawned on him. If she lost her powers, neither of them would ever be able to leave. She'd be placed in a white outfit just like his, forced to undergo the same unendurable life which he had lived for years on end. It was an exquisite type of torture, having no choice but to watch others like him be manipulated and used just as he had, only to wind up broken and blue on the wrong end of Papa's leash.
Henry would not ever allow Sixteen to live in the hell that he did. Not until his heart had stopped beating and his bones were reduced to ash.
"You have to leave," He told her, standing from his spot. A renewed sense of desperation came over him and he gripped her shoulders, "You have to leave, Sixteen."
"Leave?" She stared up at him in bewilderment.
"I won't be able to talk Brenner out of this," He said, eyes boring into hers with all the intensity he could manage, "I won't. He knows about the fondness I hold for you, and he would know that I was protecting you. You cannot allow him to chip you. You have to leave and you have to do it now."
"What about you?" Her voice came out in a wavering, terrified whisper.
"That's not important," He shook his head, "You have to--."
"I'm not going anywhere without you," She shook her head incredulously. "Sure, I'm mad that you lied but it doesn't change anything, Henry. I wouldn't ever be able to forgive myself if I just left you here. Why do you think that's even an option?"
Even through the graveness of their situation, Henry felt a surge of warmth shoot through him. The words were spoken with so little thought, like adoring him came as easily as breathing. How fortunate he was to take up occupancy in the grand castle that was her heart. In there, he sat amongst golden pillars and beauty touched only by the honored few. Labyrinthine stained glass windows, radiant mosaics, peerless works of art all perfectly kept in that muscle beating rhythmically beneath her ribs. Henry fought the urge to fall to his knees and worship the very ground she walked on.
"I can't leave, Sixteen," His face softened, smile as warm as a summer night's breeze, "Not without putting you in danger, too."
"I don't understand," She breathed.
He took her hand in his, guiding it to the back of his neck. He barely suppressed a shudder as the delicate touch of her finger met his flesh. He directed her hand against the protrusion, sending a spark of discomfort down his spine. When he released her, she looked even more horrified than before.
"That's..."
"It's called Soteria," He explained. The word was like a curse falling from his lips. "Not only does it steal away my abilities, it tracks me. No matter where I go, Brenner will know." Cool, collected anger seeped into his tone, "It may as well be a ball and chain. There's no escaping this place for me. But you... You can still leave. You can still save yourself."
"It's out of the question," She spat.
"Don't be naive, Sixteen. This doesn't have a happy ending either way," Henry pressed his palm against her cheek. It was impossibly soft, almost cloud-like. He'd be a liar if he said he couldn't stand there holding her for the rest of his days. "I could sleep soundly at night knowing that you're fine out there, living a life far better than this one even if I'm not a part of it."
"Well, I couldn't." She replied, eyes briefly fluttering shut as she leaned into his touch. Henry wanted time to stop right then. For the world to cease its spinning and allow them this moment. Even if it meant the tides would come rolling back in and calamity would devastate the Earth, he figured it was a small price to pay for absolution.
Of course, that wasn't possible.
And so her eyes opened and she pushed Henry's hand away, "It's not attached to any major arteries, right? Soteria?"
"Not that I know of."
"Great," She replied, "On the bed. Now."
He frowned, "I hardly think now is the time--."
"--That's not what I was implying. Stop being a whore and just get on the bed."
Henry watched her for a few moments, not knowing whether to feel threatened or offended. He opted for both, but did as he was told without another complaint.
Henry sat down on the stiff mattress and faced her, expression twisted up in faux confusion. Truth be told, he knew exactly what was about to unfold. He'd been gently coaxing her towards it all night. He tried taking out Soteria on his own a number of times, but it always ended up in blood running down his neck and the wrong side of a taser buried in his flesh. With Sixteen, it would be easier. Like ripping off a considerably painful bandaid.
"Try to be quiet for me, okay?" Sixteen staggered back a few steps, "I can take it out, but you have to try not to make any noise. This will probably hurt, but I'll be a quick as I can. If you want me to stop, just say it."
She took a deep breath and extended her fingers towards him. "Ready?"
Henry clasped a hand over his mouth and nodded. "I'm ready." Immediately, the lights began to flicker. Sixteen's eyes dashed back and forth beneath her eyelids. At first, the pain was nothing more than a lurching of his skin. A nuisance, a pressure, but nothing more. As the seconds ticked by, it began to burn. He felt the skin around his neck growing taut as it was pulled towards her. Then the burning began to sear, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
Suddenly he couldn't breathe very well. It felt like he was choking in his own skin as the pain became unfathomable. There was no distracting himself from it. His body began to tremble as his stomach lurched forward and he felt warm fingers of blood pooling down his neck. He jerked forward, a whimper escaping his mouth when the pain became blinding. He gritted his teeth, desperate to stay quite as the pressure grew and grew and grew.
Finally, he felt something come rocketing out of his neck, and the pressure disappeared. Sixteen broke with a cry. The lights ceased their flashing as a soft clatter announced Soteria falling to the floor.
Blood pooled freely down his neck. Whenever he twisted his head, a hallow sort of pain shot down his spine.
Oh, but he was too elated to care. He stared down at that insignificant little device, no bigger than a beetle and felt like he was sitting amongst the stars. This was all he had wanted for years and years on end. Returned to his formal glory, Henry felt like a god again. He could almost cry as he felt a familiar current of warmth pool through his veins. That electricity which he had been denied for so long thundered beneath his skin, striking like lightning at the air around them. It was Biblical, it was religion. His hands trembled by his side as a happiness so monumental stole away every logical thought.
And Sixteen was there, too, watching him.
He turned towards her and grinned. A real, genuine grin that must've looked psychotic. "Thank you," He whispered, taking a few steps towards her. He felt like saying it once didn't accurately represent how truly blessed he felt in that moment. She was a gift, a sweet sort of poison that burnt through his veins like a fire. Who knew burning alive could be so rapturous?
Sixteen furrowed her eyebrows like she was confused. A beat of silence passed, then another. He could see a debate going on her eyes, a wanting to say something and a not knowing if she should. Eventually, she made up her mind and asked, "Can I kiss you?"
Henry laughed. The noise ricochetted through the room before it eventually disappeared. He stared down at her with the type of tenderness he swore only existed between worn pages of a book. Paper and ink brought to life in something as simple as a meeting of their eyes. "Oh, Sixteen," He breathed, the words quieting into something eruditely poetic, "Whenever you want."
She smiled and leaned forward, kissing his chapped lips to life. Her touch was agonizingly gentle as her hands wound themselves in his hair, like she was worried he would splinter in two. Any thoughts of manipulation were temporarily cast from his mind as his hands settled on her waist. Her skin was warm. She was warm. Everything about her was tender and loving and mild. Some days he worried that warmth would kill him, but right then he supposed he could die happy, sacrificed and bludgeoned beneath her almighty hands.
When she pulled away, Henry realized something. It rose as the sun did in the east, dawning upon his mind like golden sunlight. It spilled through every dark corner of his being, almost blinding in its intensity.
"Sixteen?"
"Yes?" She appeared to be in a daze, voice far away, eyes unfocused.
He almost felt sick as the words tumbled from his mouth. There was no lie for him to detect, no hidden meaning or trick. For the first time in a long time, he was honest. "I'm worried that I might love y--."
She pressed a finger to his mouth, making the words die in his throat. "Later," She whispered, "Once we're on the other side of this."
He reached up, taking her hand in his. Touching her fingertips to his lips. The kiss was feigning, there and then gone.
"Later," He promised.
OKAY!
SO, I hope you enjoyed.
I'm gonna be honest im not really proud of this chapter, I know it might be a little underwhelming but I've been super super super distracted in my life recently. Just lots of stuff going on so I'm sorry If this didn't live up to your expectations. I DO PLAN ON EDITING IT LATER! PROMISE!
Either way, I hope you enjoyed the Henry and sixteen chapter! I thought some of the moments were pretty cute :)
ALSO PH MY GOD 2 MORE CHAPTERS?? I am actually starting to freak out and it's beginning to dawn on me that this is the ending. Cannot put into words how sad I am abt that, this book is my form of escapism 😭😭
Thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated <<3