Agent 38: I Never Forgot You

Chapter 6: Confusion

Eight didn't know how long she'd been sleeping for when she awoke in a dark room with several other people in it. She heard light, snuffly breathing, along with quiet snores, and small muttered words.
     Wait.
     She surged up from the ground with a gasp.
     Where am I?
     Her eyes travelled around the room as she noticed the sudden change in how her body felt. She no longer felt hot or exhausted, but soreness replaced those sensations.
     Interesting.
     That was the best sleep I've had in... a long time.
     She scanned the room once again, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. As they did, she slowly began to recognize her surroundings, and her hearts dropped.
     This... this is Aaron's house.
     How did I get here?
     Her mind thought back to her last memories before she blacked out.
     God dangit... I overheated, then they brought me here in an effort to save me. Little do they know.
     Eight silently stood up, wobbling, and tip-toed towards the door. The Agents were all sleeping on the floor, so she had to be extremely careful not to step on them. Her fingers grazed the knob, the taste of freedom in her mouth. One last step and she'd be there-
     The very toe of her foot nicked one of the Agents.
     She glanced down, alarmed, as Three stirred from his position.
     Dammit.
     Her head swung wildly around, searching for a place to hide. Except there wasn't anything that would cover her. She shook herself and gripped the knob as the light of dawn began to filter through the windows. The door creaked open.
     Eight smiled, reaching out-
     "Wait," Three whispered. "You can't go."
     "I can do whatever I want," She hissed.
     "No, I mean, you can't." He explained. "Your skin is still green and blue. If people see that, they might be a little freaked out, especially since we told the public about the Empire."
     She hesitated for a moment.
     With a sigh, she lay back down next to the door. "How did it end up like this?" Eight whispered. "This wasn't the plan. This wasn't how it was supposed to end up. How did it all go so wrong?"
     "We didn't prepare enough," Three said quietly. "We didn't count on the Empire having that many troops left." He scooted just a little closer to her, eyes worried. "I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry I didn't come looking for you sooner."
     "How long has it been? A year? Two?" She asked, almost quietly enough to not be heard. She kind of didn't want to know the answer.
     He winced slightly, gently toying with a strand of her hair. "Three years, four months, and eight days."
     Eight sucked in a startled breath. "Has it really? I've been gone for... three years?"
     Three nodded.
     She felt a stab of regret in her hearts, though she didn't know why. She remembered that they'd been in a relationship, she remembered the kisses, the hugs, but for some reason, it didn't feel real. As though it'd been drawn out, but never really happened. Or, like, it had happened, but there wasn't any intent or passion behind it.
     It was like... she couldn't remember why she'd loved him in the first place.
     "I'm sorry," She spoke. "For being gone for so long. I'm sorry I left you and the team."
     Three smiled. "It's alright. It was never your fault. I'm just glad you're here now, with us. I'm just glad you're safe and alive."
     Eight grinned slightly. "Thanks."
     They were silent for a moment.
     "Eight...?" Three breathed.
     "Yes?"
     "I know it might be too early to be asking you this, but..."
     "But what?"
     "Do you still love me?" He blurted.
     Oh, crap.
     "Three, I... It's- I- I mean..." Eight let out a sigh. "I don't know. I just barely regained my memory. It's confusing, because I remember feeling those feelings but then suddenly they're gone, but not really, because I remember feeling them, which is awfully close to actually still feeling them, but... I don't know. It's just... it's almost like I don't remember why I felt them."
     Three was quiet for a moment, his face changing. It almost looked like he was freezing over, going numb, like his emotions had just experienced a wake-up call and decided to shut down.
     He glanced up at her and smiled weakly. "That's ok. As long as I know you're alright."
     "Thank you for understanding."
     Three nodded slightly, rolling away so his back faced her. She let out an internal sigh, guilt flooding through her.
     I just broke his hearts. Again. How would I ever tell him the truth about his dad? How would I ever tell him the truth about anything? I've done enough to hurt him. He's been through too much.
     Eight closed her eyes.
     Remember.
     Remember why you loved him.
     Remember how you loved him.
     Remember. Please.
     It felt like that one last plug that couldn't break free; it felt like trying to pluck a brick from a wall that had already been built. Eight couldn't latch on, couldn't strengthen her grip. It was right at her fingertips, right there, so close, yet so far. It was easier with all her memories, but this... it just wouldn't budge.
     Eventually, she gave up. She heard the others start to stir, their little mumbles growing louder, and quickly pretended she was still asleep, just so they would leave her alone. She needed time to think.
     When she heard the others finally start to wake, almost 30 minutes after, she got up with them, too.
     There was a light silence when they saw she was awake, before smiles of relief split their faces.
     Aaron was the first to hug her. "You had us worried! Don't ever do that again!"
     When the Inkling released her, Callie and Marie instantly took his place. "Yeah! It was horrible!"
     Pfft, you're one to talk. Her thoughts muttered.
     "We're lucky the sanitization is reversible," Marie said, quietly examining her. "...could I see your wrist real quick?"
     "Sure." Eight raised her hand and the green Inkling gently took it. Marie flipped her hand over palm-up, and slowly traced her finger over the trio of veins leading to her hand.
     "Yeah, it should be reversible. My guess is the goo is injected in a certain vein or two, so we should be able to extract it from said veins." Marie explained. She pointed at the three lines, slightly glowing pale green in the dim light of dawn. "See how the ink is sanitized color? It should be pink, since that's your original ink color."
     "Wow," Three mused. "You never told us you were a medic."
     "Ha! I'm not. I just took medical classes in school." She explained.
     "You never told me that!" Callie protested.
     "That's because you were never around."
     "Ever heard of sending a text? Cuz I'm pretty sure that's a thing."
     "ANYWAYS." Aaron interrupted, clearing his throat. "What they're trying to say is, we're really, really happy to see you."
     "I'm happy to see you guys, too," Eight said softly. "Thanks for saving me. I would've died if I'd stayed out there any longer."
     "You're our best friend. We'd do it another million times if we had to." Three said. "You're our family. And family don't leave eachother, do they?"
     "Nope!" Aaron chimed.
     "Uh-uh!" Callie said, shaking her head.
     "Definitely not. We stick like glue to paper." Marie ensured, balling her fist as to show strength.
     Eight smiled sheepishly. "I forgot how much I missed you guys."
     "How much did you forget?" Aaron asked quietly. "Do you... do you even remember us?"
     "Yeah, of course!" She reassured. "I can remember the simple things; names, friendship statuses, personalities, jobs, that sort of thing. For example, Aaron, you're a hardcore gamer with a contagiously positive personality, Agent 4 of the Squidbeak Splatoon, who's pretty funny and knows how to ease the tension in the room."
     He laughed. "Contagiously positive or aggressively positive?"
     "Both." Eight said with a giggle.
     "What about me?" Callie questioned.
     "And me?" Marie interjected.
     "Callie, you're a pop star from the Squid Sisters band, Agent 1 of the Squidbeak Splatoon, who's usually pretty cheery and enthusiastic, but you can be very serious and hostile if you need to be." She responded.
     "And, last but not least...?" Marie prompted.
     She chuckled. "Marie, you're also a pop star from the Squid Sisters band, Agent 2 of the Squidbeak Splatoon. You're usually calm and collected, sarcastic, and, no offense, but you can be a little jerk sometimes."
     The green-gray Inkling laughed. "I like that description."
     "And... Gabriel?" Three quizzed.
     Eight thought for a moment. "Yeah, that's right! Where..." Her sentence trailed off as she remembered what had happened. "Oh. Right."
     Aaron elbowed him. "Great job, dude. You ruined the moment."
     "Sorry!" Three protested, batting him away.
     "While you guys argue about that," Marie interjected. "I'm making breakfast."
     "Hah, no. I'm making breakfast." Aaron announced.
     The entire group stared at him in astonishment. "You can cook?" Marie asked incredulously.
     The yellow Inkling burst into laughter. "No, I've been banned from the kitchen, and most of my food is stale. The one thing I do know how to make are peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and I have everything I need for 'em, so that's what we're having for breakfast."
     The team shrugged in agreement as Aaron sauntered off into the kitchen. Eight couldn't wipe the smile off her face; couldn't get rid of the relief flooding through her body. She was finally back. She was finally with her friends; her family.
     But she also couldn't get rid of her worry for Gabriel. As far as she could remember, he'd also been gone for 3 years. Longer, possibly, doing who knows what? He could be in danger! He could be dead, for all she knew!
     "You guys ever wonder where Gabriel's at?" Eight asked softly, breaking the silence.
     Aaron glanced back from the kitchen. Callie looked up at her, raising a brow. Marie stared at her like she was crazy, and Three even looked up from his phone.
     "I mean... he's my brother." She said. "I can't help but be worried. I love him. He's the only bit of ink-related family I have. My mom and dad are dead, and he might be, too. If he's still alive, I'd think he's worth looking for."
     "I don't know..." Aaron contributed. "He didn't really seem in a, 'I'm so happy to see you!' mood last time I saw him. Gabriel looked really... panicky."
     "Based off what you told me after it happened, I'd guess he's also gone back to his little gang." Eight mused. Given that she could now remember a lot of the things Gabriel had done when they were kids, it was pretty easy to see how sketchy he was. "And I could also guess that he probably didn't want to go back, but the gang forced him."
     "We can go find him if you want," Three assured. "But for now, let's find someone who can de-sanitize you first."
     Eight stood up. "Aaron, do you have a mirror?"
     Without looking up from the sandwiches, he responded, "The bathroom in the hallway."
     She nodded and turned. Her footsteps were silent on the carpeted floor as she opened the door and walked in. Eight kept her eyes off the mirror as she took off her hooded cape, shook it out, and closed the bathroom door.
     Slowly, she looked up, and winced.
     It was almost too hideous to look at. Her pale green skin looked pasty and beaten. Bruises and cuts and wounds were ALL OVER her body. Her irises were teal green, and her pupils along with what should have been the white of her eye were black. The sight of her own self chilled Eight all the way to the core. It was something that she was used to hating; seeing herself like this only made it worse.
     Eight spent a long time examining herself; scanning her injuries, pulling them open and testing them to see if they were infected or not. She also looked for band-aids, but didn't find any.
     A light knock on the door startled her from her concentration. "Uh- um- who is it?"
     "It's me," Three's voice responded. "You okay? You've been in there for a while."
     "Y-yeah, I'm fine. I'm just checking my wounds." She said. "Sorry."
     "Don't be." He assured. "Can I... can I come in?"
     She didn't know why, but an odd little burst of butterflies flitted around her stomach at his words.
     "Um... sure."
     Eight opened the door for him and he stepped in. Three looked at her for a moment, then pulled open one of the drawers and produced a box of band-aids, a roll of medical cloth tape, and rubbing alcohol from it.
     "Oh no..." She muttered quietly.
     He chuckled. "It won't hurt anywhere near as much as what you've dealt with. Could you sit down on the counter?"
     Eight nodded as she lifted herself onto the white marble desk. Three scanned her up and down again and winced.
     "Hmph. Where to begin..." He murmured. "I didn't know you were this beat up. If only I'd been there sooner..."
     He silently when to work on her wounds as she watched his strategies. She liked seeing how other people did things; it gave her a different perspective, and a different method on how to do stuff if she ever needed to.
     It was weird to think of, but was this why she'd loved him? Was it because of the determination in his fiery, orange eyes? Was it because of the way he ever so gently cared for her? Was it because of the way he looked at her, as if he so desperately wanted to hug her? Was it because of the way his hands drifted over her skin with the lightest of touches... the way he was guarded, but still sounded kind... the way he was expressive and fierce and bold...
     Snap out of it! Eight's thoughts screamed. Sort yourself out first. Deal with feelings later.
     But... what about that weird fluttery feeling in my stomach?

Do you ever just... *aggressive sniff* hope and pray that your ship comes true?
Word count: 2393