Phia's Fragile and Fantastic Fingers || ONC 2023

The Rescue

John can almost fly. He's been taking lessons for the last two years.

We leave the med center at 5:30 am with IDs I've doctored and paperwork Mercy's pushed through. John's snuck out ahead of us to check his ship of choice and fuel up. 

It's a good plan. 

I feel half out of my body on sedatives and antipsychotics so Mercy does something against her usual standoffish nature and holds my hand as we walk down the hall. I grip her like she's the only string tethering me to Earth. She kind of is. I trust her, even if I don't know if what's going on is real. I don't know if anything is real anymore. That fear sits in my stomach, chews at my neurons. I hold tight to Mercy. 

Mercy squeezes back. Going rogue looks good on her. She looks as confident as ever. Sure of herself in a stubborn sort of way. I admire her stride until we're through the hangar doors. We soon see John. He's next to the same sleek ship he pointed out to me last night. He wasn't kidding. We're doing this. 

"Might as well commit grand-theft airplane in style," he mumbles when we get close. He hands me my supersuit and I change as quickly as I can. My suit is built for hand to hand combat and stealth. It's black armor is a little heavy, but it protects my internal organs when I take a hit. It's also hella easy to connect to tech. There's on-suit wifi, built in data mags, and a holo computer I can use to break into nearly anything. We won't need that for much today, except to hack the ship, take it off the network and disable location tracking, but that's good enough.

Mercy finishes zipping her suit up over her shoulders. It's blue and skin-tight and therefore a complete eyesore for me, who smacked her recently and pretty much sealed the deal on us ever getting together. She and John aren't together. The world solidifies under my feet. I feel heat as blood pinkens my cheeks. I can't believe I knew they were dating. It feels so obvious now, like tasting water. The mortifying ordeal of being crazy. 

I try to ignore my twisting stomach as I get into the ship. Mercy takes the copilot seat next to John, and I squeeze into the back. We put on ear protection and adjust our small comm devises. John's stolen enough ear pieces and small tech to trick us out like we're about to head into a real mission. 

"Time to go get our girl," John says as the engines purr to life. I still can't believe they believe me, and for a moment I think about pinching myself or fighting my brain to wake up. WAKE UP. But best I can tell Mercy and John are really there. Flesh and blood and flying us out of the YEPP headquarters and toward the unforgiving ocean. 

It's a long flight and the drugs in my system pull me under for a long time. John and Mercy's idle chatter from the front seat lulls me to sleep then wakes me up when I can't quite figure out if I'm really there. I reach for a hand. John offers a quick squeeze before going back to flying.

Mercy turns entirely in her seat, and asks in her, team leader, business-like style if I'm doing okay. Her eyes scan my whole face, and down to my right hand clenched in my lap. Mercy motions for it. I fight for my fingers to open and lift my arm up for Mercy. She takes a moment to squeeze my hand, then uses her thumb to ease my hand open. Palm up. The act of opening my hand slowly reminds me to breathe. It's a subtle reminder to be gentle with myself.

"You ready to talk strategy?" Mercy asks then. Her voice is business but her eyes tell a softer story, one where she wants to leans in and put her forehead against mine and ask if I'm really okay. But that's not the story of the day. I mumble, yes.

"We're an hour out," John says, "We need to be prepared for anything." I remember a conversation had while I was flickering in and out. It was about the water monster. We were pretty sure we killed it, but that didn't mean its creator wasn't still out there making new abominations and more likely, holding Penelope captive.