Insurgence [h.s]

five

Alouette knocks on the door.

Her abrupt meeting with Harry ended six hours ago, and she hasn't heard from him since. When she inquired about his whereabouts, Gray gave her a snarky smile and a, "Why should I tell you? You've already tried to kill him once."

She'd angrily bitten down on her tongue to keep the streak of curses from leaving her mouth. She should've expected her actions in his office to backfire. Gray had to have seen something in her eyes, though—maybe desperation or something sharper-toothed and more painful—because he'd told her Jesse was at the Palace too, just like her. She can't put into words the relief she felt when she heard those words. After a little more pleading, he'd left her in front of this door on her same floor.

It's the third time today she finds her way here. Every time she knocks, she begs the room's occupant to open, but he never does. She's coming to wonder if she wasn't lied to, instead. Why would Jesse keep away from her like this? Did he fault her for what happened to the Revolution? The thought stung, deep and sharp. She couldn't blame him, if he did. He'd be right. It is her fault the Revolution was ruined. She brought Harry to its headquarters, when she should've left him to die instead. Nausea comes over her. She annihilated her father's organisation. He destroyed their family to create it, and she destroyed both in a futile, desperate attempt to rebuild them.

She knocks on the door harder. "Please open the door!"

She feels so alone. What even is left, now? She'd never even thought such loss was possible. She'd known the world wasn't kind all her life, but she'd never anticipated the actions of a couple of people to bring complete ruination. Ever since she was little, she saw reality as some ticking mechanism, made of cogs and iron thread. Every piece was necessary, but every piece was replaceable, too. Everyone mattered and didn't matter at the same time—they either worked within the system, or they didn't. Now she knows she was wrong. They were never the only options. Some pieces break free and affect everything else around them. Some pieces can destroy it all. She is that piece. She thought sliding out of the system was the only way to be truly free, but now she knows it was never a possibility. She could never be free, because her actions have consequences—will always have consequences. Her actions have brought death and suffering, even though she never meant to. They've brought pain and despair. In a deeply interwoven system, you can never tell which pieces will be affected by your even smallest actions. How could she ever trust moving through the world, now?

Her fist hits the wood again. "Jesse, please! Please!"

"I don't know about you, but I feel like he would've opened the door the first two times if he wanted to talk to you."

Alouette turns around so fast her shoulder hits the door. Brooks is standing right behind her, still wearing his black uniform. She hasn't even heard him approach her. "I need to see him," she replies, tense.

Brooks cocks his head. "That sounds like a personal problem."

"Why isn't he opening the door? What have you done to him?" A terrible thought strikes her. "Is he even here, or did Gray lie to me? Is he—"

"Oh, he's in there. I saw him a few hours ago."

"What?! Then why won't he—"

He shrugs. "Like I said, maybe he doesn't want to talk to you. So why don't you stop bothering the whole floor and leave?"

Alouette takes a step towards him. "I don't despise you," she says, her voice low. "I don't know you. You aren't one of those that betrayed me. But, if you think that means I hold no ill will against you, you're wrong. You're my enemy. You killed my friends. So watch your tone, or I'll—"